Dissonance in Corruption
by Barrel Maker
Summary: An unfamiliar soul enters Gensokyo as anomalous forces suppress the region's magical power. Completely alien to this place, he asks around for help as he searches for someone he can neither describe nor give reason for his search. Compelled by concerns for Gensokyo and an impulsive curiosity, some answer his request, stepping into the birth of an industrial awakening.
1. Prologue

It'd been an hour—at least from his perspective—since he left the mortal world. Funny, Cicero never really fancied himself a "mortal", but perhaps the wrong end of the knife gave him a change of heart. If only that was metaphorical. He wasn't sure exactly where he was headed, but he was certain the territory would not be the same. All he could see in front of him now was an endless plain of blank white, and all there was to hear was the numb tune of silence. The weightlessness of the realm didn't help either; he couldn't really move in any direction, though he could flay his body around and hope for something else to happen. A few flaps of the arms this way and a kick in the air the other way and he successfully made himself nauseous from the built up momentum. No, he wasn't going anywhere, he thought.

The rest of his body was too disinclined to even respond. His entire nervous system was barely numb, and he couldn't feel his previously racing heartbeat nor the contractions of his diaphragm. It felt to him as though he was what people called a "zombie", except without the dumb moaning or the desire to consume a peer's grey matter. He tried that once—the cerebellum was too chewy. There was really nothing he could do at the moment. Might as well just float here and await the inevitable, if there was actually something else to wait for.

Now was a good time to think, he concluded. He didn't get much time to just drown in his own thoughts. Now that all the war waging, neck breaking, figurative back stabbing, and literal back stabbing were away from him, he could just melt into sleep and dream while he had the chance. Death was surprisingly relaxing; he was half expecting some supernatural torment to ravage him for close to an eternity. The other expectation was waking up to the blade still stuck in his sternum. It appeared neither was going to happen, to his disappointment, but at least it was quiet for once.

It wasn't long before the silence ceased, however. A subtle pull enveloped his body, followed by the dull roar of a distant wind. The weightlessness was disappearing too, and he could feel his stomach begin to lurch forward.

"So much for a bit of R&amp;R," he muttered to himself. The rest of his body jolted back to life, giving him a modest shock in the process. The dull roar of the wind had quickly escalated to an abrasive howl, and he felt his body picking up speed. The beating in his chest rose again, and he caught himself gasping for air that was travelling too fast for him to breathe in. The bleached white void was tearing away, apparently literally, to a dimmer sky of gray. The adrenaline of the fall swiftly prompted him to flail his arms again to try to grab anything to slow his rate of descent. Why did he even bother? He was looking up at an overcast sky. There wasn't anything he could even wrap his fingers around.

Before he could think of something better to do, he slammed against a surface, letting out a forced grunt before being immediately swallowed by a layer of water. His vision blurred as his descent ended, and he choked as a practical cup of water poured into his lungs. He quickly swam back to the surface and coughed for a minute or two. "Good lord," he attempted to say before he was beaned in the back of the head during the beginning of "lord". The force of the hit sunk him back into the water with another forced grunt, and he eyed the silhouette of a small boat above him. Once it passed, he resurfaced again with a second coughing fit before looking at the vessel.

It was no larger than a wooden dingy, and appeared to be carrying two people on it. One donned red hair and a scythe; the other was a sullen looking man with a beer belly, and unlike the red-head, looked completely unimportant. There was, however, an unusual group of bulb-like objects floating around him, each with a small "tail" that whipped upward like a candle's flame.

Cicero kept them in mind before turning around to inspect the rest of his environment. The body of water he was in appeared to be a river, if not a canal. One shore was populated by clusters of other sullen men and women; he caught a glimpse of a few children too, most of which bore expressions leaning towards confusion rather than depression. The other side, where the boat was headed, was empty, save for a large field of flowers. The shore with the crowd was much closer to him, he noted. He'd have to catch a different ride if he wanted to check the flower end. He craned his head up in the air. The sky was gray, but oddly looked like it was the actual sky rather than a layer of clouds. The whole place was also surrounded by a distant fog, and a quick examination of the water showed it was opaque, but with more of a glassy sheen than just sedimentary pollution.

"What a strange—" he attempted to comment, but was cut short by another blunt hit to the back of the head, forcing another sink and resurface. "Son of a gun!" he shouted after clearing the water from his trachea. He saw the boat again, this time stopping in front of him rather than continuing. It was the same red head, this time travelling alone. How did she get back so fast? She looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"How the heck are you floating right now?" she asked, sounding like she doesn't normally stumble on someone in a river.

"Um, buoyancy?" Cicero responded confusedly, still attempting to process her quick return. Maybe she killed the last guy and dumped him in the river. Perhaps it wasn't a smart idea going with her, but she'd already offered her hand by the time he snapped out of his trance. She hoisted him into the boat and turned back around to the shore loaded with flowers. Behind him, he could hear the dull groaning of everyone else. Apparently they all wanted a ride too.

"Right… So where'd you get those weird clothes?" she asked immediately as the boat seemingly moved itself without any physical interference.

"Eh?" Cicero answered; he'd caught himself poking at a similar group of bulbs that'd begun floating around him. He glanced down at his soaking wet attire; it was still his gray military officer's coat and boots. He even managed to keep his cap after the fall. All that was different was that there was no gash in his chest. She stared at him, resting the scythe on her shoulder and waited for an answer. At the same time, he eyed her blue and white dress, which completely deviated from any design he'd ever seen, save for in a few books. He also noted the pigtails her hair was tied into and the pinkish hue he hadn't noticed at a distance. On a side note, her bust was just as worthy of admiration.

"Well, where'd you get _those?_" he asked awkwardly. A long, uncomfortable silence rose between them before she replied.

"I guess everyone has their own tastes," she said, ignoring his question. "So, where're you from, pal? The village? The mountain?"

"Does the place 'Archaea' ring a bell?" Cicero answered.

"Hmm? Nope. What's it like?" She traced her eyes around the horizon. It appeared she liked making small talk with her passengers.

"It's… really far from here I imagine," he muttered. "Actually, could you do me a favor and tell me where I am?"

"Well, you're dead, so this is the Sanzu River. We're going to Higan so you can get your judgment. What, haven't you died before?"

Cicero raised an eyebrow. "No."

"Ooh, you must be an outsider. Wow, you're the second we've had in like, a century."

"I beg pardon?" Cicero asked. He was a bit surprised that a human could last for a century. Then again, it would be extremely foolish to conclude that anybody here was even human. He glanced for a moment behind him. They'd gained some distance from the crowded shore, but it didn't look like they'd moved an inch closer to the other side. Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him.

"We usually don't get outsiders at Higan. Most of them just leave before they could die. Speaking of which, how _did_ you die?"

"I was stabbed," he said, leaving out the unnecessary details.

"Huh. Well I won't ask why. People don't usually like when I ask the story behind it. But there was one guy I met who told me he cleaved his entire family with a butcher's knife and strung their entrails all around his house because he couldn't pay a guy he lost a bet to. He was a bit of a loon."

"A bit of a loon…" Cicero repeated, with a bit of a smile on his face. Maybe this place was just as insane as home.

"Speaking of pay, can you hand me your coins?" she asked him, holding out her hand.

"Coins?"

"Yeah, they're for the toll. You gotta pay to ride this thing."

Cicero fiddled through his pockets, which were all empty save for one that managed to catch a small fish. He shrugged and smiled awkwardly at her after looking. What more could he do?

"Dammit, outsiders must be chronically broke. It's gonna take me another fifty years before I can buy a better boat than this piece of crap." she whined with a look of agitation on her face. "Oh well, you're more trouble taking back at this point. We're here." Cicero jumped as he noticed they were already at the shore. Just a moment ago he could've sworn they were in the same place.

"Alright then…" he muttered to himself before addressing the girl, "Thank you miss, uh…"

"My name's Komachi. Remember it because you owe me next time you die. Just follow the path. The Yama will get to you once it's your turn," she commented, then shoved off again.

Cicero nodded to her before walking along the tiny beaten path ahead of him. The amount of flowers in this place was staggering. Posies filled the landscape up to the horizon. All he could think was that whoever planted them had too much time on his hands. He made his way for a good twenty minutes until he reached a long line of more sullen men and women. In front of him was the man with the beer belly that Komachi had brought over. The line extended almost as far as the flowers, and he couldn't see the end of it. "How inefficient," he thought to himself. The line slowly filled up behind him, and he inched forward every couple minutes. He kept to himself, since nobody else looked interesting enough to talk to, and nobody conversed anyways.

There was enough time for him to contemplate exactly where he was. Higan didn't ring a bell in his head, and if he was still back home, it should have. Perhaps Death took him somewhere different. He couldn't help but think that the eggheads before used to talk about something like this happening. He shrugged the thought off and continued waiting.

There was enough time for him to analyze every different looking flower he could find near the path and try to figure out what it was before he made any progress. The time extended into the hours, and seemingly into days as he moved. What a maddening wait it was. The guy in front of him never shut up complaining about not getting another drink. At least he couldn't die twice, otherwise he might find himself stuck in a cycle of falling into the same cycle after withering away.

After over a week of arduous standing, a small house began to peek over the horizon; he estimated it would be another week before he could inch forward enough to see it up close. The house was strangely designed, but had a similar feel to Komachi's attire. All of it screamed a sort of "Feudal Era" kind of design. His Old World memory failed to tell him what kind of country this place resembled though. A few hours later he reached a sign spelled in a different language. Oddly enough he could understand it. On it said:

_Ministry of Right and Wrong._

_Presiding Yama: Eiki Shiki_

He would have said it was odd, but everything else was already so anomalous that he'd grown used to the strangeness. Another grueling day passed, and he was finally second from the door. The man in front of him was called to enter by an exasperated girl's voice. She sounded young for a judge, assuming this was where he would receive his judgment, but ultimately Cicero no longer cared. He was close enough to listen to the talking inside, just barely. It started off with the girl, presumably the "Yama", speaking to the man for a few minutes in a lighter tone, followed by a short period of him groveling to her for mercy on the sins he'd committed. The next four hours were spent listening to her detailing and criticizing virtually every problem of his life before she proceeded to beat him senseless with some object.

"Now to hell with you!" she shouted. Cicero could hear him continue to grovel before a loud whooshing sound silenced him. "Next!" the girl shouted, sounding more exasperated then before.

The white wooden doors slid open, and he walked in. The interior was surprisingly large, the ceiling extending upward another two stories and the walls twice as wide as he'd visualized outside. In front of him sat a young looking girl with dark green hair, and a blue dress with a black skirt. On her head was a blue and white crown with a golden emblem. Most of her hair extended to her neck, but a portion of it extended to her shoulder. Her seat appeared to be a kind of symbolic scale to indicate a balance of good and evil, one end of the scale holding a white skull, and the other holding a black skull with the seat itself composed of gold. Clearly she held more authority than Komachi.

"I wonder if my life would have been easier staying a statue…" she muttered to herself, rubbing her temples before she looked at Cicero. "You'll have to forgive me. It's been a long day," she said in a more composed tone.

"You don't say?!" he shouted with a condescending smile.

She ignored his outburst, running her eyesight up and down his figure. "Why do you wear that outfit?" she asked in puzzlement.

"Why do you wear that _hat?_" Cicero retorted. He was already getting tired of being asked about the uniform. Maybe it would have been wiser not to test her if she could really send him to hell, but he wasn't really one to take the sensible path. They shared a familiar awkward silence, staring at each other blankly for a few minutes.

She let out a tired sigh. "Nevermind. Let's just get through with this." She straightened up her tone to sound more formal. "Departed soul, you will be evaluated on the transgressions committed in your past life. Every portion of your existence will fall under my judgment, which shall determine the fate of your sentence." She held up a small crystal mirror in front of his face, the reflection facing directly at him. The image morphed, showing images from the beginning of his life, rapidly flashing different scenes in front of him before eventually leading to his ultimate demise. Cicero glanced at the Yama; her expression grew more perplexed as the images continued. As the show ended, Cicero could remember a number of regrettable moments in the past. Suddenly his chances of reaching a favorable sentence seemed less than ideal.

"You're another outsider," she said flatly, "Almost like the last one that showed up: a mixed bag of candy and spiders."

"Uh, is that good?" he asked with a confused smile. She quickly sat up from her throne and walked over to him, holding a polygonal piece of wood; Marked all over it were writings that seemed to change as she approached him. She stood just a couple feet away from him, and he could easily see that she was a foot shorter than him. But before Cicero could react, the Yama belted him in the face, four times a cross and once downwards. So that's what the last unfortunate fool was screaming about. "Well. Ouch." He grumbled, rubbing his face.

"I'm going to sum up the lecture," she spoke less formally, and stuck her face uncomfortably close to his. "You're not the worst thing I've ever seen, but you better shape up. I suggest this time around you rip out a few less spines." She returned to her chair, and raised the piece of wood in her hand. "I, Eiki Shiki, the Yama of Gensokyo and the Supreme Judge of Paradise, sentence this soul to human reincarnation in the Underworld. Good luck." The last part didn't ring as well as he'd hoped. The room was silent as she put her hand back down and relaxed in her chair.

"Well, wasn't that flashy? So, what now?" he asked, scratching his head. He'd half expected something to glow at this point. But before anything else had a chance to occur, an eerie oblong hole gaped open beneath him. The Yama grimaced as he fell, but took no action to help him.

Cicero slipped through, his body passing through a thin film dividing one dimension from the other. A distinct chill travelled up his spine as he entered another world of weightlessness. But unlike his state in the blankness of time and space, he retained his faculties. The sight was unsettling, as the only entities in sight were a plethora of disembodied eyes scrutinizing him from within an ethereal magenta background. They shifted erratically around their space as he looked around, as if disconnected from regular perception. He partially enjoyed this detail.

Each eye possessed an empty black cornea indistinct from the others; their shapes were narrower than the eyes of the people he'd seen. The "floor" beneath him was merely a layer of larger variants, some of which gave of spectral glows from their corneas, frequently changing colors. There was little else to see, however, as another oblong gap expanded behind him. An external gravitational pull dragged him towards it, pulling him through the film and shooting another chill through his back. As gravity reoriented, he had little time to right himself, falling this time on his head. He struck stone rather than water, which was enough to send him into a momentary blackout.

…

It wasn't long before he came to. His back was cold, the surface feeling smooth but uneven. He opened his eyes, waiting for his vision to come into focus. His entire body was sore, especially his head, and he could feel a faint beating in his chest. His heart was coming back to life; perhaps that meant the Yama truly did reincarnate him. An empty black sky was all he could see at the moment, but as his sight regained its clarity, something approached him from the right. He shifted his eyes to see who it was, but the sight of her made his fresh-pumping blood run cold.

A girl with silver-white hair walked up next to him, staring down at him with cold, monotonous eyes. His killer had matched this description, and though logic would have dictated she could be nowhere close, his only though was how _she_ could have followed him here. Her looks combined with the sheathed blade she rested her hand on threw him into a transient silent panic. He eased up, however, after getting a better look at her face. Her expression was much softer than the furious glare his former opponent once gave him. This one appeared more focused, analytical, and above all, calm. Her attired differed as well, being a simple green dress with a white blouse beneath, rather than an all-white cloak. She kept her sight locked onto him for a moment before looking forward.

"He is awake, milady," she stated in a formal, almost subservient tone. Cicero sat up from the ground, rubbing the back of his head; his entire skull throbbed with a subtle ache. This at least confirmed for him that he could still feel pain above a light thrashing. He got off from the ground and himself within the premises of a small house similar in design to that of the Yama's, though still fairly larger. He was in the middle of a modest Zen garden, which happened to bear a handful of boulders in the area. Next to him was a displaced trail amongst the neatly combed rocks, leading from Cicero to a nearby boulder. He could only guess where he'd landed. In front of him sat two young women along the wooden walkway of the house.

"Ah, so he is," stated one. She sounded older, speaking softly, but with greater authority. She looked at me with a relaxed expression, her eyes possessing a unique maroon hue. Her hair was pink—more so than Komachi's—and covered under a mob cap colored in light blue with a white accent. Printed on the front also appeared to be a strange, nearly spiraled symbol in red. Her dress donned similar white and blue colors. With all of this, an unusual set of softly glowing entities floated around her in stationary positions. She extended her hand and motioned for him to approach them.

He did so reluctantly, eyeing the other woman on the left. Her blond hair was much longer, extending to her back. Her violet eyes gazed directly towards him, appearing to be sizing him up. Her dress and cap also donned similar shades of purple. Her expression was one of sophisticated silence—Cicero could tell she was analyzing him in every way possible. But it wasn't her appearance that intimidated him; rather it was what she was sitting on. Instead of perching herself on the walkway like the first one, she floated just slightly higher up, resting on what appeared to be the same kind of gap he fell through. This, combined with the equally unsettling feeling she gave off, made him almost certain she was responsible for bringing him here.

"This is the so-called 'abnormality' you requested me to fetch, yes?" the blonde woman asked. Her tone suggested they were long-time friends.

"Mmm, the nature of his being seems… familiar," the woman in blue responded, hiding part of her face with a fan, "The river even refused to take him."

"I take it you can explain where I am," Cicero cut in, "Everything's been happening sort of suddenly."

The blonde turned her head towards him, keeping her pink parasol rested on her shoulder. She scanned over him once more before looking back at her companion. "If you could excuse us for a moment…" she said.

"Go ahead. I'm still awaiting the dumplings I asked for," she answered with a smile.

In an instant, the blond woman slipped through her portal with another one engulfing Cicero. He found himself in the world of eyes again, this time with the woman next to him. They were already gravitating towards another opening.

"Sooo, I imagine you are an individual with power," Cicero stated. He might as well try to learn who was above whom, or at least who was more worth killing if he needed to.

"One could say that," she responded. The dimension seemed to give off a low grumble as they spoke.

"Could I ask for your name?" he asked.

"I'm afraid that information would not be useful in your hands." She kept her sight locked at the other opening, which slowed its approach over the course of their conversation.

"Okay, _what_ are you then?" he had to get something out of her, ideally how she could create these openings with apparent ease.

"A simple Gap Youkai, you could say."

"Youkai?"

"Demons, apparitions, whatever you might address them as. A youkai possesses supernatural powers."

"Supernatural. I've seen enough garbage claimed to be beyond explanation," Cicero crossed his arms, "Each was no more than a hoax. Everything can be explained by science I assure you."

"Perhaps," she responded, "but if so, tell me the scientific explanation to your uniform. You sound far from anything like a military captain."

"I'm surprised nobody's just asked why I'm a black guy," he retorted, "but fine. Maybe something will surprise me."

"Hmph," she gave with a smile. The gap in front of them expanded throughout the whole dimension, replacing the magenta background with a blue, cloud-filled sky. It'd been too long since Cicero saw a regular sky, which prompted a subtle sigh of satisfaction. "Gensokyo," the youkai stated flatly.

"Bless you," he snapped out of his gaze. Simultaneously, he found himself standing on a gap of his own.

"A theater of magic and illusion. Home to entities living across the spectrum of good and evil. _Your_ new home."

_"Mine," _he said half-sarcastically. He looked over the plethora of forests and the mountain that ruled over them. Despite its height, they stood far above it. He could see mansions and villages scattered throughout the land, some defying the visual themes he'd grown use to already. "So this is my new prison?"

"For the most part," she said, sinking back through her gap. Involuntarily, he followed through his own. They traveled back to the house and garden. She rested herself next to her companion as Cicero fell back onto the garden, this time away from the boulders. Cicero groaned from the subtle pain he received from the landing before looking up next to him. The same silver-haired girl stood next to him, holding a small wooden rake. She gave off a tired sigh and walked off as he stood up. He looked around and found he'd made another imprint in the garden.

"Oops?" he muttered under his breath then turned to the youkai. "What's your interest in me anyways? You're showing me all of this for a reason," he questioned.

She said nothing as another gap expanded in front of him.

A brief sigh left him as he put on a relaxed smile. "It's not like I was planning to take a break or anything… Alright then, what would you have this poor soul do?" He took a subtle bow, to which her eyes narrowed.

_**[Author's Note] So this thing is basically a revival of an older fanfiction that I made that sucked all sorts of ass. This one aims to improve on the most basic concept of it while changing everything that used to suck. Which was everything else... So, reviews and comments are appreciated. Here's something important to know though. I'm still learning a hell lot how to write. That pretty much means I'll be pretty slow in updating until I get the hang of things. **_

_**AND WHAT'S REALLY IMPORTANT is that this plot is huge. Like REALLY huge. As such, the story's going to probably take a bit longer to wind up than other fanfictions. It's extremely focused on character interactions and development and how people change over the course of the story rather than simply what's happening. And with that added, I added my OC(s) with the mentality that this story ISN'T entirely about them. I really want to make a story that is more centered around the people who interact with them so that you can see how the events of the story change them instead of the OC's, since most of them are manufactured to be flat characters.**_

_**I'd like for you guys to give this story a chance, though there may not be as much danmaku insanity and cheesy fandom references as typically portrayed. Lastly, if you're wondering where the "sci fi" aspect of this story comes into effect, don't worry. You won't be disappointed when this story is finished. All I ask is you be patient with me.**_


	2. Chapter 1: Cicero

**Part 1**

A unique coldness permeated the Underworld. The oni in the city tapped off thin layers of frost accumulating on their shoulders from the gentle snowfall that had begun in the early morning. Some took part in sparring to keep their bodies heated, while others diluted their nerves in waves of sake. The usual morning bustle of Former Hell's markets replaced itself with indoor commotion and laughter, leaving the frost covered streets to bear but a few wandering pedestrians. On the clay shingled rooftops of the buildings ran a trail of footsteps coming from a lone youkai.

The younger of the Komeiji sisters pranced her way across the city, enjoying the limited scenery the street torches could provide. Koishi didn't mind, or perhaps remained totally oblivious of the cold as she donned her typical thin yellow blouse and green skirt. Her black and yellow cap, resilient in remaining on her head during her flights, had also netted a thin layer of frost over time. She jumped from roof to roof in relative silence, letting out a subtle hum every once in a while.

Something caught her eye as she leaped over a small alley. She stopped midair in her jump, floating above the alley as she looked down. An unusual rift decorated with eyes and ribbons opened up near the ground, releasing a series of low grumbles and whispers, clear to her hearing before letting out a more obscure grunt from beneath it. Koishi looked on with increased curiosity, staring at the opening until it gradually sealed itself and phased out of existence. The product left from the occurrence was a body lying face down on the alley's snow-covered stone path. She floated down to it slowly, staring at it questioningly.

Koishi landed next to it, analyzing every detail she could find; she had nothing better to do anyways. The structure was skinny, but too broad at the shoulders to be a woman. He must be a young man. The only part of his skin she could see in his position was his neck, which was unusually dark—a light shade of brown. The rest of his body was covered by a gray uniform, complete with a pair of shiny black boots. She turned him over, which was easier than expected. His cap interested her the most; it looked like a hat men used to wear in times of war. Looking again, she noticed that the rest of his outfit appeared to be suitable for a commander. After eyeing the uniform again, she took off his cap, revealing a head of short-cut black hair. She replaced his hat with hers and giggled for a moment at the sight of it before putting on his cap. She quickly participated in acting out stiff military marches and salutes to herself.

As Koishi played around, the man on the ground came to, groaning and rubbing his head as he sat up. The top of his head felt different, and he looked up, spotting a much longer rim than he was used to. He took off his hat and examined it, coming to the conclusion that it wasn't his hat. He looked around him, seeing only a few empty crates and barrels in the dark corner of a dead end before turning around. Behind him was a strange girl with his hat. He got up from the ground, wiping off the snow from the front of his body, and tiptoed up to her. She was about to pose another stiff-armed salute when he tapped the top of her head, which caused her to freeze in place for a moment.

"Pardon me!" he uttered suddenly. Koishi leaped forward a bit and started floating low from the ground, curling her body up and rotating backwards. The hat fell off of her as she was upside down. Her eyes were shut for a moment, and she held her arms up to her face. Eventually she opened her eyes back up and looked back at him. They shared an awkward silence for a moment as she continued to float upside down. "I believe that's my hat," the man continued, pointing at the hat on the ground.

"It is," Koishi replied with a smile, "I found it on you."

"Is that so?" he asked as he picked it up. He held out the other one towards her. "Does this happen to be yours, then?"

"Mhmm!" she said, grabbing it and putting it back on her head. Surprisingly, it managed to stay.

"Why… did you take it?" he asked awkwardly.

Koishi floated back down and landed on her feet. "I thought you were dead!" she said excitedly.

"Dead? Oh don't tell me I'm still dead," he muttered to himself.

"Since you were dead, or since I thought you were dead, I borrowed your hat so that I could play with it. I let you borrow mine though, so it was fair, right?" Her expression indicated a genuine playfulness.

"You have a very interesting train of thought," he replied with a wide grin. Another silence arose before he spoke up again. "This doesn't happen to be the Underworld, does it?"

"Yeah it is! I live down here with my sister in the palace!" she started floating above him again.

"Wait a second," he muttered, then looked up. In the undulating lights of the torches he could see snowfall, while the sky remained pitch dark, devoid of stars. "Is the Underworld underground?" he raised an eyebrow.

She nodded silently.

"It's snowing. Underground." He crossed his arms and paced back and forth in the alley before returning to Koishi. "You know, I really thought it'd be a lot… hotter down here."

"It is!" Koishi replied, "It's just snowing right now!"

"Huh," a perplexed expression grew on his face. "Well, I've seen bigger violations of science." He walked out towards the street, analyzing the scenery. Only torches appeared to be lighting the block. He looked to his right, spotting a set of relatively massive spires jutting from the ground, yielding sequences of lighting and windows along its exterior. It was a small castle of some kind, set somewhat inappropriately in the city's center, "Did you say you live in a palace?" he asked Koishi, to which she nodded, "You're royalty?"

"Hmm? Not really. At least I don't think so. I mean, we live in a palace, but… my sister doesn't really manage anything outside," she answered.

"Hmm," the man returned to pacing in the alley. It was a good ten minutes before he shifted once more to Koishi. "Right, so…" he started, "I'm looking for someone. Could you help me?"

"Yeah!" she answered enthusiastically.

"Well, that was easy."

"What does she look like?" Koishi asked.

"I can't tell you."

She tilted her head. "Why not?"

"Because it's a secret!~" he answered whimsically.

"Oh, okay! Where's she from?"

"Can't tell you that either."

"What? How come?" her face grew puzzled.

"Cuz that's a secret too!~" he answered just as whimsically.

"Mmph, she's going to be really hard to find," she pouted.

"Don't worry!" he shouted with exaggerated bravado, "Once I catch onto her trail, she's as good as found! Wait, how'd you know I was looking for a girl?"

"I didn't. But most of the strong youkai are girls," she answered.

"That explains a lot…" he muttered.

"Oh, I know!" Koishi interjected, "Maybe my sister can help you. She can still read minds!"

"_Still?_" he questioned before she grabbed hold of his arm.

"Come on!" she said as she started flying down the street, pulling him with her.

"Hey now!" he uttered as he was flung forward. She failed to notice for a while that he wasn't floating alongside her; they sped past pedestrians as he attempted to swing his body left and right to dodge any who were unfortunate enough to be in his path. Koishi's blissful humming returned, accompanied by the series of expletives released from the man as he continued to avoid collisions with uncomfortably solid objects. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait…_wait damn you!,_" he barked over the wind.

It got her attention, prompting the question "What?" as she stopped abruptly where she was. The suddenness allowed enough force to loosen their grips and send the man sliding across a meter of pavement. He got up with several pained groans, rubbing the back of his head in the process.

"I keep falling like this and I'm going to wake up asking '_who am I?' _and '_are my parents dead?'_" he grumbled under his breath. After continuing on his subtle tirade for three more minutes, he trudged his way to Koishi. "Deepest regrets for not telling you this earlier, but, I can't quite fly. Or float. Or propel myself in any other fashion that doesn't involve locomotive use of my feet."

"Oh. Then, I'll carry you!" she exclaimed, grabbing him by his arms again.

"Whoa, no, no, no, no, no, that won't be necessary! Let's just walk!" he responded quickly.

"Why?" she tilted her head again.

"So that… we can talk?" he answered slowly.

"Okay!" Koishi exclaimed before floating down next to him. The two of them strolled down the road to the middle of Former Hell, one half-skipping along, waving her arms about, with the other keeping a steady pace, hands folded behind his back. She'd carried him quite far, appearing twice as close as it was before. The Underworld settled back into quietness, with only the ambience of the interior frivolity to accompany them in their walk. The snow, having been but a thin sheet of flakes earlier, had grown into a fluffy coverlet on the ground, which Koishi blissfully plowed her boots through. The man kept silent, scanning about his surroundings. Intrigue grew on his face as he analyzed the architecture of the city as well as the silhouettes of the horned citizens standing next to the windows.

"So, what's your name?" the man asked, sounding only half as cordial as the way he walked. Koishi turned around and began to walk backwards, having skipped slightly ahead of him.

"I can't tell you," she replied quietly, smiling at him.

"And why is that?"

"Because it's a secret!~" she answered, mimicking the tone of his earlier response.

"Really now," he asked with half closed eyelids.

"No, It's Koishi," she giggled before stopping in the road. The man stopped next to her, waiting for a follow-up statement. They remained there for a minute, staring blankly at each other without so much as a hiccup.

"What? I haven't killed anyone yet." the man stated.

"When are you going to tell me yours?" Koishi asked flatly, "Is that a secret too?"

"Hmm? Oh. Right. Actually, I'm not sure," he reacted pensively, "I wasn't told if I could say my name… Well, lack of clarity breeds implied permission. My name is Cicero."

"You sound really calm now," Koishi spoke quietly.

Cicero knocked a layer of snow off his hat. "Do I? You sound calmer than me right now. Perhaps both of us just like to take a break from the insanity every once in a while."

"Insanity?"

"Idunno. Noise, maybe? It's been a bit hectic since I got here. You know, like, culture shock I suppose. Plus, I usually don't get conversations like these." They continued their walk as he began to elaborate. "Most of the time my talks are short. Maybe people didn't take interest in me back home. "'Good day, sir,' I would say to someone. They take one good look at me, and before I know it, they're shrieking 'Oh god no!' screaming about someone to save them or something. 'The heck did I do?' I'll ask sometimes. Other times, well, I guess I just break their necks. They're not willing to talk after that. Tell me, should I work on my people skills?"

Koishi stopped walking and heel turned towards him with a smile. "You're a maniac."

"Why, thank you!" Cicero responded gleefully.

"No, seriously. You have problems," she asserted, retaining her smile and happy tone.

"Why… thank you?" He repeated more apprehensively. They continued their stroll in silence, maintaining a reduced amount of eye contact with each other. The humble wooden buildings of earlier districts had given away to more pristine structures mixed with smooth stone. Passersby who'd also gained sophistication in their attire, despite their unwaveringly rowdy nature, exchanged glances with each other, staring at the odd pair making their way to the palace. They were but a block away from the palace's perimeter when the silence was broken. "What possessed you to help me anyways?"

"You looked really fun!" Koishi exclaimed with her old enthusiasm.

"And that warranted you to bring me to your domicile even after you were made aware of the possibility that I am subject to a potentially dangerous mental illness that could bring harm to you and your loved ones?" Cicero asked with a generous dose of sarcasm.

She nodded excitedly.

"…Are you sure _I'm_ a maniac?"

Over the time that they'd conversed, the snowfall had lightened, leaving a shimmering glow above the city barely illuminating the distant ceiling encasing the cavern, faintly revealing the tips of stalactites previously hidden away by the lack of ambient lighting. Reaching out far from the city's base stood the spires of the Palace of the Earth Spirits, a domain visited on occasion by the local populace to bask in the lush gardens of subterranean flora that grew within the courtyard. Beyond the black iron fence stood walls of precisely cut stone, bearing rows of shining stained glass depicting the image of a dark colored bird. Perhaps a crow or a raven, Cicero speculated. The lights inhabiting the property were comprised of softer shining gas lamps, which glowed slightly dimmer than the city's torches; they gave a sort of serene feeling in the midst of the city, despite the palace's vast area. Stone brick paths accompanied by small pools of water lead towards the large wooden doors at the front of the palace.

Koishi approached the iron gates resting at the end of the road with Cicero following closely behind. A thin mist lurked near the ground, enshrouding their ankles in a highly translucent layer of vapor. He caught glimpses of cats wandering about as Koishi pushed through the entrance; some appeared to possess more than one tail, though the poor lighting was likely playing tricks on his vision. They stared at him pensively as he followed Koishi, pupils fixed onto him with subtle green glows. Cicero raised an eyebrow at them and continued forward. The pair passed the half-frozen pools of water and stopped just short of the wide steps leading to the interior.

"Is this the part where I ask if I may come inside?" Cicero asked complacently. "Oh?" he added as he was caught off guard by her sudden movement. Koishi quickly dug her face into his chest, wrapping her short arms around his waist. Cicero stood frozen for a moment, unsure of how to react. "This isn't what I meant," he spoke up. She kept her hold on him for another minute. "What are you trying to do right now? This is not how a suplex works."

"Iff uh huh yuuu fuuuh iieiuuu!" Koishi muffled through his coat.

"I beg pardon?" he asked.

She took her face out from his chest and looked at him. "I said it's a hug you funny idiot!"

"I'd made that conclusion. I wish to know _why_ you've chosen this action." Cicero grimaced.

"Well…" she trailed off.

"Yes, yes? You're almost there," he encouraged.

"You haven't said anything about my third eye yet. And that made me happy," she answered softly.

"Oh, that. Well shoot, I've seen worse. Um… What did you expect?" Cicero scratched his head.

She didn't answer, but laid her head next to his chest again, her greenish white hair resting at his tie. He stood there uncomfortably, unsure of whether to respond with a hug back or to just let it happen. Eventually he put his arms around her, though looking around the area apprehensively. He spotted a series of cats that were looking at him nearby. He pulled a crooked, confused grin at them as he held her. After another minute, she released her hold, gazing at him with dark emerald eyes.

She was about to speak again when Cicero put his finger over her mouth before interjecting. "Can we go inside first?!"


	3. Chapter 2: A Simple Skirmish

Koishi pranced in as she pushed open the ten foot doors leading into the foyer. Cicero lagged behind for a moment, taking off one of his leather gloves and running his fingers along the wooden texture. He examined it thoroughly, expressing as much enthrallment as a man could for a door.

"Is this mahogany?" Cicero called to Koishi, who was happily dancing around in the foyer's checker-tiled floor.

"Idunno!" she answered back, waiting for him to bother to actually come inside.

The architecture also didn't fail to catch his eye. The entrance was less a foyer as it was a grand hall of sorts. Through the vast corridor stretching far into the distance were rows of chandeliers on its arched ceiling, each holding scores of candles in its frame. They illuminated the upper half of the structure as a series of stained glass panels—each bearing the familiar raven symbol from outside, glowed softly on the palace's black and white floor tiles. Staircases lined the sides of the hall, spiraling upward to the fourth floor, the steps lined with red carpet.

Cicero peeked outside briefly, eyeing the size of the exterior and compared it to the interior. While the outside bore a modest size, the inside was extravagantly large, extending hundreds of feet in its volume. At the end of the hall stood another stained glass image of the raven above a large doorway, preceded by a medium stairway. "So. This is your home," Cicero commented.

Koishi nodded. "This is where we stay with all our pets!"

"You mean all of those cats?" Cicero asked, pointing his thumb back to the door.

"No, those are my sister's," Koishi responded, "Those are mine over there." She pointed over to another series of cats accompanied by a small cluster of ravens perched at a staircase, appearing nearly identical to the ones outside. He raised an eyebrow at them, to which they tilted their heads in unison.

One approached Cicero's leg, staring up curiously at him with glowing red eyes. "Good day," he greeted, lifting up a hand. This one also tilted its head, but seemed to grimace while doing so before quickly running up a staircase. "Do I offend?" he asked himself.

He turned his attention to Koishi, who'd knelt down to pet a series of cats that had surrounded her. "This is a nice place," he remarked.

"Mhmm!" Koishi responded. She soon started giggling as her cats played around her.

"And you're sure you're not royalty," he reaffirmed.

"An aristocracy, actually," a gentle voiced echoed behind them. The two turned around to the far side of the hall. A short, cerise haired girl approached them, floating slowly in midair. Her sight was fixed on Cicero, expression remaining utterly calm. Something was off, however; despite her meek face, her purple eyes gave off an icy glower. He observed the extra eye floating near her chest, wired to her head and wrists with vein-like chords. It watched him sporadically, jittering its sight all over his body, as if searching for something. The whole sight interested him, to say the least.

"Sister!" Koishi gasped with a smile. She floated up and met her, the two sharing a quick hug. The girl glanced at Koishi with a softer look before staring back at Cicero. Her attire was inverted compared to his companion, donning shades of magenta and blue, as opposed to Koishi's green and yellow. Cicero started to wonder how many pink haired girls he was going to meet in this life.

"Good day?" Cicero greeted slowly. He couldn't help but account for the cold feeling coming from her eyes. Along with her unwelcoming glare, he could feel an externality knocking at the outsides of his thoughts.

"Koishi," the girl addressed softly, "have you made a new friend while you were away?"

"Mhmm!" She nodded excitedly, "His name's Cicero!"

"Cicero?" she echoed, "That's quite a unique name." Her conversation remained with Koishi, though she continued to stare at Cicero. He waved at her nervously, bearing another crooked smile. "Tell me, sister. Don't you think he looks rather… human?"

Koishi gasped and turned towards Cicero. "You're a human?!"

"Did you think I was a youkai? You must have really strong legs because you jump to conclusions quite a lot!" he retorted.

"He must be rather strong, Koishi," the other girl spoke out. She'd lowered herself to the ground and picked up the same cat with glowing eyes.

"What do you mean?" Koishi turned back to her sister.

"Think about it," she extended her arm, "If he is a human, he must have been quite powerful to survive a trip all the way down here.

Koishi's face brightened with excitement. To Cicero, it felt like a bit too much excitement, even for her. "You're right!" she said before turning back to Cicero, "You must be really strong!"

"Again, jumping to conclusions, though I won't say that you would be right at some given point," Cicero replied worriedly. In a more ideal situation, he wouldn't have hidden his bravado.

"Do you want to fight then?!" Koishi asked eagerly.

Cicero's brows furrowed. "This _is_ going where I think it's going… Hey now!" He was cut short as he barely jumped out of the way of a cluster of projectiles. They rammed into the ground with excessive force, exploding with small plumes of smoke and knocking away his hat. The floor appeared unscathed, however. Cicero looked up and spotted Koishi floating high above him, generating waves of small green and blue orbs in simple patterns. Some didn't fly directly at him; the sheer number of them was his true threat.

Another volley bore flew towards him as he sprinted off to the side. He looked behind him, jumping from the closest ones to him, hoping he wasn't leading himself into another one. The explosive force of each projectile was enough to knock him off balance even after jumping.

At the small pause between the last volley and the next, he hid himself in the kicked up smoke and ran behind a staircase. He briefly closed his eyes and tensed his body for a moment, holding his breath. A second passed and he opened one eye back up before exhaling in disappointment.

"Oh of course they're gone!" he shouted to himself while another volley exploded around him. He huddled himself up to the side of the staircase, attempting to peak around the corner.

"Aww, you can't hide! That's no fun!" Koishi shouted across the foyer. Through the smoke, he could see that she'd lowered herself closer to the floor. Her expression was still as happy as ever.

With an opportunity present, Cicero bolted out from beneath the staircase and sprinted straight for Koishi. Another pattern of blue and green bullets hurdled towards him, forcing him to sidestep from as many as he could, stumbling a few times along the way. Once he was but a few feet away from her, another set of bullets headed towards him. He ducked beneath them and jumped as they hit the floor, the explosions propelling him forward towards Koishi.

"Yeeeeaaaaaaaaaaahhh!" he shouted as he delivered a strong kick square into Koishi's ribcage before falling back to the ground. She recoiled slightly from the impact, floating down onto the floor.

Cicero's fall was nearly graceless, landing on one foot and hopping forward a couple times before regaining his balance. He noticed that the projectiles ceased, but as he turned around, a boot met the side of his torso with vicious force.

"FFFFFFFFFFF—!" he bit his lower lip, recoiling in a similar manner. He looked over and found Koishi standing near him in a relaxed fighting stance.

"Heehee, you really are strong!" Koishi commented gleefully. Cicero quickly replied with a punch to her face. While he usually concerned himself with the ethics of violence on a regular basis, he threw away such hindrances in the midst of combat. He attempted to follow up with another kick, but was stopped as Koishi managed to counter his movement with a kick of her own along with a similar punch to Cicero's face. This was why ethics were currently void to him.

"You honestly didn't look like a fighter," Cicero admitted, keeping his guard. Her attacks came quickly, though she only acted out the same moves he had landed on her.

"I'm not!" she replied, throwing another punch, "But I can learn fast!"

Her fist landed in Cicero's palm, and he quickly turned her around, twisting her arm backwards. He could hear her let out a pained squeal. There was a feeling that would look bad on his resume to her sister, though she appeared to be completely fine watching the entire conflict. He released her and swept his leg under her feet, forcing her to float upside down. As she rotated in position, Cicero met her once more with a heavy drop kick to her front. She exhaled forcefully and flew backwards as Cicero fell back to the ground.

Cicero stood up, hopping around in an exaggerated boxing stance. "Come on, show me what you really got!" he shouted. Maintaining her quirky smile, Koishi flew high near the ceiling. A subtle pressure enveloped Cicero's body as Koishi surrounded herself in a brilliant glow. Scores of bluish white lights lined the top of the foyer as a series of large red circles revolved around Koishi. "Oh boy…"

Koishi quickly raised her arms, releasing a torrent of beamlike missiles accompanied by a plethora of crimson bullets fired in every direction. Their trajectories saturated every part of where Cicero was standing, and he scrambled to figure out how to not die. A few made their way to him prematurely, which he barely jumped away from, but as the bulk of the cluster came closer, he eyed the most ideal pocket of space amongst them, and attempted to jump as they slammed into the ground.

The foyer lit up intensely as every bullet and missile dispersed in rapid succession. Cicero's body was flung into the air, reaching the bottom of the third floor before plummeting back to the ground. He was deafened by the massive explosion, but could tell that the projectiles had stopped. He was hoping to be near something to grab onto it, but had no such luck.

How unfortunate, Cicero thought. There would be a few dozen broken bones too many once he reached his destination. He spoke too soon, however, as a series of bright flashes and vibrations emanated beneath him. It didn't stop his fall entirely, but he hit the ground softly enough to retain his skeleton, landing with a heavy grunt.

"I hate being human," he grumbled. The massive plumes of smoke from Koishi's attack began to dissipate, and he could see her floating in the same spot she was, though something was different. Looking closely, she appeared incredibly dazed, her face looking exhausted as she lost altitude. Eventually, she broke into a freefall, diving head first towards the floor.

Cicero grimaced as he pushed his aching body forward towards Koishi. His landing positioned him close enough to sprint towards her. While his bones remained intact, countless bruises were felt along his body. He wasn't used to such damage to his person in such a long time—maybe his old life spoiled him a bit.

He groaned with every stride he took, trying to get within catching distance. Suppressing the pain as much as he could, Cicero leapt forward, extending his arms out. He'd overshot just slightly, causing Koishi's head to run straight into his back. He grunted once, then a second time as they both struck the ground. He followed up with a long, pained groan.

"Can I just go to sleep now? Can I just die?" he moaned. As he quieted down, he could hear Koishi breathing softly on top of him, her diaphragm gently rising and lowering. "You fell asleep?! Ow…"

Cicero laid there for a few minutes, coping with his recollection of what pain felt like. The adrenaline was wearing off, and he could feel utter soreness on every inch of his nervous system. Not only was he vulnerable, but his "reincarnated" body felt completely out of practice. His muscles felt as if they would tear from any other movement; his shins were practically made of glass while his ears leaked blood onto the tiles.

Eventually, he felt the weight of Koishi's body lighten from his back. He could hear a series of ravens squawking and flapping their wings. As his back was completely free of obstruction, he rolled over, watching several birds lift up Koishi and whisk her off into a corridor. Cicero laid down alone for a moment until the red eyed cat approached him. It sniffed his hair as the other girl followed behind, standing next to Cicero's torso.

"I don't suppose you have any ibuprofen?" Cicero asked wearily.

"I'm not quite sure what that is, I'm afraid, but I can help." She said kneeling down next to him. Her hands waved over his body as a subtle glow enveloped him for a moment. His soreness hadn't disappeared, but was reduced enough for him to be able to stand. "Please forgive me. I'm terrible at healing magic."

"Magic, magic, magic…" Cicero muttered to himself. He stood up slowly from the ground, grimacing at the bruises that still existed. He took a few deep breaths, resting his hands on his knees before pointing at the girl. "You did that on purpose," he accused.

"Excuse me?" she asked quietly.

"If you hadn't said I was a human… she never would have fought me… right…?" Cicero panted.

"Yes, that's correct," she answered.

"And if you knew that… then you _wanted_ her… to fight me…"

"Perhaps."

"If you could… be so kind as to tell me… why I deserve such treatment… I would be delighted…" He slowly regained his composure, though still exhausted.

"I understand why you would be upset. Please understand, I was only taking a precaution," she responded.

Cicero looked back at her. Her gaze was much warmer than it was before, but her floating eye was twitchy, looking at him with sporadic movements, as if desperately searching for something. All the while, he could still feel something picking at his head. "How does precaution warrant your tossing me into a life or death fight?"

"Please forgive me," she said apologetically, "There's a certain quality about you which…bothered me. Even now I'm a bit hesitant to speak at this distance." She picked up the red eyed cat and stroked its head. "I was led to believe this anomaly was related to your magical power, though clearly I was wrong."

"You can't read my mind?" Cicero guessed.

She looked at him with sudden surprise. "How did you know I—"

"Your sister told me you could. That's why she brought me here," he explained, "Besides, I've had experience with mind readers. I guess they just can't tap into my crazy little mind." He began to pace around the room slowly. "Tell me, what do you see when you tried to read my thoughts?"

She was silent for a moment before she explained. "Usually, a person's thoughts are clear to me. Their memories and emotions are easy to organize and look at. When I look at you, however, I see… images. Bits and pieces of your thoughts and memories, but they scatter around. One scene does not follow logically to the next. And… your thoughts , when I can piece certain portions together, are incredibly violent."

"Which is why you took 'precaution,'" Cicero acknowledged.

The girl nodded. "I'm curious about something else, as well."

"Before we continue," Cicero interrupted, "I would like to clarify a few aspects of this conversation."

"Of course."

"First, could you calm down? I'm only unnecessarily violent _half_ the time," he stopped pacing and put his hands in his pockets. "Besides, I don't even possess my old abilities, evidently. If I was a problem, I'd imagine all you would need to do is vaporize me or something of the sort, correct? Especially now, I'm too weak to put up another fight."

The girl nodded again.

"Second," he moved closer to her. She stepped back once, but held her position, likely attempting to maintain her courtesy. "I've done a great deal of things, but I am not a mind reader. Could you tell me your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me," she responded genuinely, "I've yet to introduce myself. I am Satori Komeiji, Mistress of the Palace of the Earth Spirits."

"A pleasure meeting you," he said affably, gently shaking her hand. "My god I'm so sore I can barely move my arms."

"Perhaps you would like to rest before we continue our discussion?" Satori asked, smiling.

"That would be absolutely lovely," Cicero paused, "I think I'm about to collapse." He put his hands on her shoulders, his grip heavy. "Pardon me," he said, trying not to stumble over. Soon he regained his balance and stood on his own.

"I'd be happy to oblige." She led him down a long corridor on the second floor, opposite the side Koishi was taken into. The red eyed cat followed closely behind. The walls were decorated with various objects conflicting with the cultural nature of the rest of the city. Whilst the Underworld retained its feudal aura, the palace in its entirety felt like a completely foreign concept in comparison. He eyed various shields and suits of armor—typical arrangements of castles he'd come across, though these felt more authentic. The checkered floor was replaced with soft carpeting bearing similar dark colors along with the raven symbol inserted into the design. The hall itself, while significantly smaller than the main corridor, was still expansive.

"I had a question," Cicero chimed in as they walked.

"Mmm?"

"Did you see how far up I was tossed on Koishi's final volley?" He kept his hands in his pockets.

"Yes, actually. I was impressed that you flew high enough to reach the third floor," Satori responded.

"So I really was that high up," he muttered before returning to Satori. "A human couldn't have just walked away from a fall like that. I felt something explode beneath me."

"Oh?"

"Koishi's volley was over as far as I could tell, yet something slowed my fall."

"How perceptive," Satori smiled, "I provided a small shot of my own in hopes that you would survive. I had no intention of killing you, only evaluating you."

"I see."

They continued down the hall until Satori stopped near a small door. "This is one of our guest rooms. You can recuperate in here," Satori said.

Cicero turned the handle and walked through. It was a spacious bedroom with a small bathroom off to the side. He walked in and checked the toilet. It was a normal, boring toilet. "Huh, and here I thought you wouldn't have plumbing." He turned back to Satori, who stood at the doorway, the cat on her shoulder. "This'll do. I'm going to collapse somewhere over there," he pointed over to the canvassed bed.

"Well then, I shall not disturb you," she bowed slightly, "You can come find me after you have rested."

Satori left, the door shutting behind her. Cicero let out an exhausted sigh and looked around the room. It was dark, as the candles on the wall weren't lit. He found a match and lit a single candle on a nearby table, not bothering with the rest. Quickly taking off his glove again, he felt the surface of the table.

"Oh yeah, that's mahogany," he mused.

There was a pair of windows at the opposite wall, overlooking the city. The snowfall had increased slightly, and now a modest blanket covered the pathways and rooftops of the city. He pulled the curtains over the windows and took off his boots, resting his cap on the table. There was a small wardrobe near the bed, which he opened and immediately grimaced at.

"It's all women's clothes," Cicero grumbled, closing the wardrobe. He shut his eyes for a moment, imagining himself in male sleepwear; opening his eyes, he was still in his military uniform. "Screw it, I'm sleeping in this."

He threw himself onto the bed; his eyelids slid shut within seconds. Before he could fall asleep, however, he could hear the sounds of low ambient grumbling. An exasperated groan left him as he opened his eyes back up. "You couldn't even wait for me to get some sleep, could you?" He sat up next to the headboard, looking at the youkai standing half inside a gap.

"You're going too slow," Yukari stated with a stoic expression.

"It's been literally a couple of hours. You don't expect me to find her overnight, do you?" Cicero asked, getting back into a relaxed position in the bed. "Besides, your directions are absolutely absurd. You expect me not to be able to solve this problem on my own, yet you want me to keep the entire operation clandestine so that it doesn't stir up commotion. Tell me, how am I supposed to get help when I can't tell them _what I need help with?!_"

"That's for you to figure out," Yukari responded.

"Oh for the love of— You know, I could skip all of this if you told me where she was. It'd make both our lives a hell of a lot easier."

Yukari's eyes narrowed. "An Archaean is causing this crisis, ergo, an Archaean will resolve it."

"Then, sit back and relax, sister!" Cicero exclaimed, "It's going to take a long damn time if you're not going to help me. Or, hell, you could do it yourself if you're _really_ in a rush. So, pick your poison. Let me do it, and you don't have to lift a finger. I'll find her, but I'll do it the way I feel like it—which usually involves hurting a lot of people…" his expression darkened. "Or you can pick up my slack. And I can just take a long vacation down here."

Yukari sighed. "Just get the job done at some point."

"Come on now. That couldn't have been the only reason you dragged your butt all the way down here. What do you got for me, mastermind?" Cicero started jumping on the bed.

"You were struggling in that fight," she commented, remaining cross-armed in her gap.

"Would you like fries with that understatement? I'm starting to get the feeling you didn't understand me when I said _all my wonderful abilities have disappeared_. Well, not all, evidently…"

"You still have something?" Yukari questioned.

Cicero shook his head. "Not necessarily. I used to deal with abstraction. Even when my body can't operate the functions, it's still associated with its concepts. You should consider yourself lucky. Had I not had my grasp on perception, that mind reader would have seen right through me. Anyways…" he shifted once more in his bed. "What is it about my horrid mortality that puts you off?"

Yukari paused before she answered. "Gensokyo is saturated with powerful beings. You'll never make progress in your current state. And that was a short battle. A _very_ short battle."

"Then help me, genius!" he jumped off the bed and waved his arms in front of Yukari. "Your never-ending philosophy of _lazy_ is what's giving you problems, not me."

"You're getting to know me so well," Yukari retorted with a smile.

"Guuuuuh…." Cicero groaned, falling on his back and bouncing once on the mattress, "Just get out of my room so I can sleep."

A brief silence hung between them for a moment, lasting long enough for Cicero to think she actually left. The grumbling of the gap still made its presence clear, however. "Whatever your method is, I hope you don't wait until Hell freezes over." With that, silence returned to the room, the ambient grumbling having ceased as well.

"Thank goodness," he whispered to himself. He quickly grabbed a pillow and flung it at the candle on the table, knocking the light out. Hopefully the damn thing wouldn't catch fire.

**_[Author's Note]_**

**_I previously stated that my update schedule would consist of either every SUnday or at least once every couple weeks. As you can see, I have failed both. So, I've decided to state this instead. The next time I update, whenever that is, I will be posting 7 full chapters-one for each day of that week starting on a Sunday. At least then you can have the updates in bulk and not wait around for my poorly timed ass to show itself again._**

**_Anyways, a tiny chapter this week, folks. Next one's going to have a bit more beef. And with a side of miko._**


	4. Chapter 3: Youmu

_**It's been too long, guys. I've got some explaining to do.**_

The swordswoman kept her pace in the garden, tending to more detailed tasks while keeping within earshot of her mistress, who was still sitting along the side with a bowl of fresh dumplings. It had only been a few minutes since Yuyuko's companion had left to speak to that unusual soul. Though she was convinced the matter was beyond her concern, she couldn't help but feel a growing curiosity—not just for that individual in general, but for the general state of affairs. Her mistress, as kind as she was to her servants, had refused to divulge any news about the outside world for quite some time. Perhaps this was a request from Yukari; perhaps it was simply her mistress' own will. She couldn't think too hard on it, however—she had to make sure she was still working. There wasn't much to do with the garden at this point, but if she stopped now, Yuyuko would send her off to other duties, and she wanted to hear what the gap youkai would say upon her return.

Not a minute into her next detailing, a brief gust of wind followed by the sound of shifting pebbles caught her attention. Youmu looked up further into the garden, spotting a familiar silhouette near the boulders. She sighed first at the rocks that the interloper had just ruined before paying direct attention to her. The shrine maiden, armed with that piece of wood she called a purification rod, stood at the site of the garden's deformation. It was intriguing that Reimu would come here, as Lady Yuyuko had made little interaction with the outside. She faced Youmu for a moment before turning her head to Yuyuko, who was also eyeing the miko closely.

"You have business here, shrine maiden?" Youmu asked, resting one hand on her greater sword.

"Why else would I have come?" she responded flatly, keeping her sight locked on Yuyuko. "I want to know why she's here," Reimu demanded.

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you're talking about. It is only me and my gardener here at the moment," Yuyuko answered coyly.

With a resigned look, she held up her divining rod. "I don't have time for this." Youmu prepared to unsheathe Roukanken, but Yuyuko swiftly held up her hand.

"Ut, tut, tut…" the mistress protested, "That would be such a careless waste of energy for both of us, don't you think? Besides, you already appear quite exhausted. I doubt you would want to gamble so closely with death like that."

Upon further inspection, she was right. The miko looked fairly spent—an unusual trait for her since her travels up here were fairly simple after their first encounter. But, even for her mistress, her use of the word death seemed to feel… loose. Regardless, Yuyuko's words seemed to convince her as she begrudgingly lowered her rod.

"I'm sure you can wait for just a moment. She's off running errands at the moment. Care for a dumpling?" Yuyuko smiled and held out her bowl. A second later, a gap expanded next to her with its typical ambient grumble. "Oh, speak of the devil."

Yukari floated into the open, bearing a relaxed position but a stoic expression. "Come to give me criticism, have we?" she inquired as she turned to Reimu.

"No, just to ask whether you're blind or not," she retorted, crossing her arms.

"Goodness, such hostility from you today. I wonder why…" Her last sentence came off with more sarcasm than usual. "But you couldn't have come all the way here just to complain. There are more pressing matters at stake."

A long sigh left the miko. "You expect me to fix this all by myself, don't you?"

"Of course not," Yukari retorted, twirling her parasol slightly. "I have other tools digging to the center of this issue. _You_ only need to minimize the casualty rate."

Another odd statement in this turn of events, Youmu thought. She wondered if the surface youkai were increasing their aggression towards humans. It was hard to make out whether such an increase was a normal occurrence or not.

It took Reimu a few minutes before she responded. "Fine, what do you want me to do?"

"Survive, first of all. Second, keep yourself out of Former Hell. Other forces are at work there. Besides, you would not want to expand your field of work so far… hmm… And keep a close eye on Makai. But only check on what travels in and out of it. If you value your life, I _highly_ suggest you stay out of that region. Otherwise, do what you will. I suggest you be on your way, now. Quite a lot could have happened during your absence."

"You don't think I can survive Makai's miasma?" Reimu challenged.

"The miasma is the last of your worries. Just keep clear of that place. Now go."

Reimu let out another sigh as she turned around. "This better pan out well. Because if not, I doubt even your border will hold up." Yukari's eyes narrowed at her comment, and the shrine maiden took off.

"Deary me, is that truly the severity of our crisis, Phantasm?" Yuyuko inquired, fanning herself. Her bowl of dumplings was unsurprisingly empty at this point. "Perhaps we really should hurry him along."

Youmu was at a loss at this point. She'd been kept out of the loop for far too long to know what was actually happening, though she understood a bit about the places they spoke of. Former Hell was the city in the Underworld, where the oni reside. There was talk of it being close to a tremendous source of heat and energy, yet the city itself could still experience light snowfall. That was also where that strange individual was sent. She wasn't sure what her mistress' companion saw in him, though Yukari likely had far more knowledge about him than anyone else.

The other place, Makai, was only a name she heard about a few times before. There were rumors that the puppeteer originated from that place—a place supposedly ideal for improving one's magical capabilities. Still, even the name seemed to give her an uneasy feeling.

"Admittedly, I overestimated his pacing. Somehow I expected him to be more… direct," Yukari pointed out. "He is likely capable of solving this issue in time, though…"

"Is that all? You worry that he'll take too much time?" Yuyuko got up and sauntered along the walkway towards Youmu, who stood straight when she noticed. "Perhaps we should lend him some support." With that, her hand rested on Youmu's shoulder.

"I beg pardon, milady?" Youmu inquired. The question caught her off guard, and the idea gave her the feeling she was being given a double-edged sword.

"Oh, you object?" her mistress replied, turning back to Yukari. "I suppose it couldn't be too late to call back your student, my friend. She does share your initiative."

She shook her head. "She is needed elsewhere; I strongly doubt they would cooperate with each other anyways." The shrine maiden wasn't known for long term cooperative efforts.

"How about someone else, then? There must be someone who can give this pawn of yours some assistance," Yuyuko said, putting a finger to her chin. "What about your shikigami? Surely she can do more than gather intelligence. Or, if you're shorthanded, maybe the smaller one that follows her around."

Another shake of the head. "Ran's research is currently invaluable. Being without her would be arduous. And Chen… well, I'm not sure who I'm insulting if I sent her."

Yuyuko pursed her lips. "Well, why don't _you_ help him personally? If you're so concerned, it would only make sense to make a direct intervention in order to… keep your tools in proper condition." She watched as Yukari's eyes narrowed at her; a sure sign that she'd noticed her slight challenge to the gap youkai's decisions. "Tsk. I'd forgotten that you had something to prove… Silly me!" Yuyuko said with some sarcasm. "Alright, you could try to pick from the pool of youkai that aren't already making a mess on the surface. At least, from the ones who are still alive, that is."

"Lady Yuyuko," Youmu chimed in. Both of the superiors turned their heads to her. She wasn't in favor of interrupting them, especially at this immediate moment, but perhaps they would be willing to enlighten her on the world's troubles. "I apologize for interrupting, but could you tell me what's going on?"

"Ah, so you _are_ interested, my dear. Would it be wise to tell her, my friend?" Yuyuko asked Yukari.

"If she truly bears potential to lend aid, then go ahead." She responded flatly.

"I am," Youmu said quickly, biting her tongue afterwards. They were already hinting at the idea of sending her in, and now she'd likely just signed herself in past a point of no return.

"Really now? You're taking a shot in the dark, you know. Is your curiosity really that impulsive? Yuyuko asked.

It was difficult to explain, but she couldn't help but cling to the thought of the situation. Even long before Yukari's new agent came around, the chatter that those two had always felt unusual. Everything coming out of their mouths changed from the topics of politics and border maintenance to casualty rates and the balance of power. This shouldn't have struck so many different chords in her heart, but her mind was too far invested in the possibilities for her to let go anymore.

"If you wish for me to help, then I will…" Youmu answered nervously, "Please, inform me on what's been happening."

"Oh, very well. Shall I do the honors, or will you tell her instead?" Yuyuko inquired.

"I will. There's only so much I am willing to reveal," Yukari said as she floated closer, stopping within the proximity of the two across from her. The gap youkai was no stranger to the Netherworld, but her interactions with Youmu were scarce. Still, she could tell what her mistress' companion was like just by her presence, and by the things she normally discussed with Yuyuko. It was nerve racking to see her gaze directed at her—even her phantom half seemed to feel chills at the acknowledgement of Yukari.

"I will affirm once more. If you wish to know, then you vow to offer your assistance until this crisis is averted. You have one more chance to control your impulses. I suggest you be entirely certain in your willingness to learn."

"I am…" Youmu said nervously. She didn't take time to think about her answer. There was a sense of dread boiling in the bottom of her heart, but her curiosity burned with greater intensity. Maybe it was an accumulated boredom from being in Hakugyokurou for such a long time, or maybe she just wanted to know what was happening with the world. Either way, she'd made her decision. Yukari took a brief exhale before responding.

"If that is the case…" she began, expanding a gap next to Youmu. The opening slowly distorted itself from the gap's usual background of eyes to a bird's eye view of a small town in the middle of a forest.

"The human village?" Youmu hazarded a guess.

Yukari nodded. "Look closely."

Upon further inspection, she could see the general state of the village. Several roofs had collapsed, a few buildings appeared to be burned, and the streets were, for the most part, empty. Youmu raised an eyebrow at the small handful of humans that existed on the roads. Each told their own stories with their bruised, bloodied bodies. One man weakly dragged himself across the dirt, pulling along a mangled leg away from a fallen structure. A woman several houses down from him was silently cradling the body of a young boy, who rested limp in her arms. The others in view simply didn't move. She watched on in silence, waiting for something new to happen. The woman eventually went back inside her house, still holding the boy, while the man had stopped dragging himself. One more person came out of a distant building. Looking closer, it appeared to be history keeper, Akyuu. Her face couldn't be seen from the distance of the gap's view, but her posture indicated a sense of disappointment. Not long after her emerging, the village's protector fell into view. She clad herself in her horned appearance, diving feet first towards the man on the road. Youmu couldn't help but utter a quick "What?" as she slammed her heels into the back of the man. His body flailed out briefly before falling limp. Almost immediately, the hakutaku flew back up, out of the gap's view. Akyuu had also disappeared, likely going back inside the building she came from.

"I thought the humans lived in a state of relative peace with the youkai." Youmu commented as the image began to fade inside the gap.

"Under normal circumstances, you would not be wrong," Yukari responded.

"Why show me this? It's unusual that this is happening to the humans, but what is the relevance?"

"This is just a small example of the youkai's behavior as of late. There is a waxing of madness and paranoia within the region; birthed by a supernatural anomaly, to put it simply. It has yet to spread to the Underworld, however. There is another crisis growing there. One more physical than that of the surface. The madness is likely to follow, though."

"Is that why you sent that human to the Underworld? To solve the crisis?"

"It was also the least volatile area for him to enter," Yukari added without much of a response to her question. "That is the essence of the situation. Now you will do as you have promised."

"Wait, why did you send him?" Youmu asked. Even at just a glance of him, he looked far from being able to fix what appears to be a significant problem.

"He is linked to the source of this crisis. It is only appropriate that he should be responsible for alleviating this problem," Yukari answered. "Clearly, however, he needs another asset. Which is what you will do."

The gap next to Youmu shifted again, revealing an image of the man she'd seen earlier. He lied still on a bed within a dark room. "You will accompany him in the Underworld and resolve the crisis in the region. You are to follow his directions to the letter, and do not act without his permission. Provide protection for him as well… he isn't a skilled fighter… I will open a gap when it is time for you to return. If you do not see one after the crisis is resolved, see to it that he completes his own mission. I'll reiterate, you won't be coming back until after he has done so. Do you understand?"

"I do," Youmu answered as steadfastly as she could, "But who is he, Ms. Yukari?" The gap's image quickly faded to the background of eyes along with its normal ambient grumbling.

"Simply put, an outsider. Proceed forward." Yukari motioned her to go through. "Keep your wits about you. Your blades will benefit you far more than your magic." Youmu nodded slowly, stepping through the gap.

The floor beneath her existed for only a moment before seemingly fading into a realm of weightlessness. She was floating within the dimension with an external force pushing her forward. The gap she entered through slowly sealed itself shut, encasing her in the dimension's dull glow for a moment before a new gap coalesced in front of her. It was a fair distance away from her, giving her some time to think before she was within its proximity. Her most prominent thought happened to be the question of what the hell she'd just gotten herself into. The more she recalled the events of just a few minutes ago, the more she regretted her weakness to impulse. Maybe it would have been better keeping her mouth shut and staying within the secure lonesome of the Netherworld. It was too late now, however; her decision was made, and now she had to set her mind for what was to come.

The plethora of eyes set almost infinitely far away kept their gaze on her, the grumbling of space feeling like the only thing close to her. When she was but a few feet away from the gap, her body lowered itself to a false floor beneath her, prompting her to walk forward. The dark room was set before her, facing the bed that her eventual superior was still resting on. After a brief gulp, she stepped through the boundary, her shoes touching the carpeted floor in the room. The grumbling behind her soon faded into silence once she was all the way through, leaving her in the darkness. There was a slight draft coming from behind her. When she turned around, she looked through the windows, eyeing the snowfall outside. Even for Gensokyo, snowfall underground was a fascinating concept. She took care to keep herself from making any sounds as she walked around, but could already hear the shuffling of fabric from the bed.

"Oh my lord, it's only been twenty minutes and you're back," Youmu heard a voice complain behind her. Immediately she turned back around, watching the silhouette of a man rise from the canopied bed ahead of her. He didn't appear to be facing her yet, seemingly rubbing his face with his hands. It sounded like he thought she was Yukari. "Did you have a world-shattering epiphany or some—" she could see his face turn towards her, almost feeling the grimace that followed as his sentence fell short. Before she could open her mouth, he shifted from the bed and stood up, sauntering over towards a small table next to him. He kneeled down, picking up a small object from the floor. With a quick swing of his arm, he flung it nonchalantly at her, the object hitting her in the face. A reactive grunt escaped her as she expected something hard to hit her, but instead felt a soft, fluffy texture. It was a pillow. He kneeled back down, fiddling with what sounded like harder objects as he felt around for them. "Well there's the damn candle…" she heard him mutter, "Tinder, tinder… I need a match!" he shouted. "Oh…" A minute later, he stood back up, a spark quickly darting across the table before a small flame lit a wax candle in his hand. The room lit up with its dull radiance, revealing his face in an orange glow. His expression indicated a degree of irritation, his eyes half-closed and lips pursed.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Youmu asked quietly, holding the pillow he'd thrown at her.

"Wake me? Nah," he said lowly, resting the candle on the table, "I've been lying there thinking about my new life."

"New life?" Youmu inquired.

"Who are you?" he asked, ignoring her question; he'd moved closer to her, both of them standing at the foot of the bed. "Wait a second," his finger extended towards her, "Aren't you that maid from that other place?"

"I'm the gardener, actually…" Youmu reluctantly retorted, "You must be Yukari's emissary." It was a wiser choice to approach him with a formal tone, despite his attitude.

"Pffft, emissary might be a stretch. At this point you might as well call me an errand boy, since she can't be bothered to do it herself," he said with a hint of sarcasm. "Oh, oh, let me guess. She sent you."

"Yes. She has."

"Oh! Wow! That was fast!" he exclaimed, scratching his head. "Uuuh, pffft. So, what are you going to do? Because now I need to explain why you're here. You know, unless you're going to like hide or something."

Youmu straightened her back. "I am to follow your orders to the best of my abilities. My mission is to help you complete your own task. I can only take action under your permission." She continued to keep her tone formal. Hopefully he was no stricter than Yukari. His face, however, looked far from satisfied, expression contorting to one of complete stoicism. There was a sudden coldness in his gaze, which locked tightly with hers. His own posture straightened up as he folded his hands behind his back, pacing steadily around her. He inspected her from top to bottom, eyeing her phantom half which floated around her in the opposite direction of his circling. At the third lap around her, he stopped behind her, and she could feel the weight of his hand running along the sheath of her wakizashi, Hakurouken.

He returned to her front, grabbing the pillow she was still holding. She eased her grip, letting him take it from her. Just as quickly as he'd flung it at her, he swung the case at her, gently smacking the side of her head. She flinched at the impact, though it didn't do much of anything. As she looked at him questioningly, he swung again, swatting her a second time. "What are you—" she tried to say, but was cut off as he made a third swing, this time with feathers flying off. He quickly escalated to just bashing at her repeatedly, forcing her to shield herself with her hands. It still wasn't hurting her, but it was just plain annoying at this point.

"Hey…! Hey! Cut it out!" she shouted, catching his wrist as he swung. He stopped dead in his tracks, his face twisting to a look of confusion. It took a moment before she realized that her own expression bore a great deal of aggravation. Her face grew sheepish as she let go of his arm. Not two minutes in, and she'd already acted out of line. Surprisingly, however, his expression quickly lightened as he looked at her.

"You have a free will… Thank god! I was gonna cry if I had to deal with a monotone robot all day. Let me clarify to you…" He put his hands on her shoulders. "My one order is that you don't turn into a dog. Help me? Yes. But I'm not your boss. If you're going to work with me, we work as partners. Just, just loosen up, okay?"

She could only bring herself to nod. His methods of getting his point across were odd.

"Right, then! Now, what's this?" he quickly went around her and slammed his hand against her back, pulling off her Hakurouken. "You don't just have one…" he poked her Roukanken, "but _two_ swords! Two! We've got a special snowflake, ladies and gentlemen!" he shouted

"What are you going on about?" Youmu asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," he responded, unsheathing her wakizashi and examining the blade, "You don't mind if I borrow this, do you?"

"Borrow it?"

"Well, I can't just go around fighting everything with my bare hands. I mean, I'd like to, but I'm no use dead."

"I… suppose," she answered. It couldn't hurt to give Hakurouken to him, since they were going to operate in tandem. Besides, she didn't bother to use both of them simultaneously. Still, she had the feeling he was going to end up cutting himself.

"Great!" he said, putting it inside his coat. "And now…" he threw himself back on the bed with a long sigh. "I'm going to actually sleep now."

"What do you want me to do, then?" Youmu asked.

He waved his arms in the air. "Whatever you want, kiddo. I'm exhausted." With that, he picked the pillow back up and threw it at the candle, knocking it off the table and causing it to clatter onto the floor. Thankfully, it didn't catch fire. The room darkened, and he shifted himself into a comfortable position and went silent.

It would have been foolhardy to leave without him. It would take a lot more explaining if she was found alone. All she could really do now was to wait for him. Getting her own rest wouldn't be a bad idea. There was a modest chair in the corner of the room. She sat down, unstrapping her katana and resting it against the arm. She eyed the windows again, which had gained a bit of frost, before settling herself down to try falling asleep. Something caught her attention before she could fade off though.

"Hey," she called out just loud enough for him to hear.

"Mmm?" he responded.

"What's your name?" she'd actually failed to learn that early on.

"Cicero…" he paused, "Yours?"

"Youmu."

"Youmu… hmm…" he muttered. She didn't hear anything from him after that, and soon drifted off into sleep.

_**[Author's Note]**_

_**Sooo, how you guys been? It's been a long journey on my end. I've been doing a great deal of soul searching to get all of my faculties straight. Plus, I've been trying to make sure that this story goes the way I want it to. I want to make sure that whenever I do post, I'm not posting shit that I wrote on a wall somewhere. That said, this bloody chapter took 18 drafts before I was satisfied with it. But fortunately, the story is set in my head, so things should be cranking out faster now. There have been some changes to the overall plot, and if you look closely you can see where those changes have been made, but the first chapters you've seen are all fine and dandy, so don't worry about that. That said, you're gonna have to hold out again while I go into another bout of silence. I want to muster up a cluster of chapters for the next time I post, so you guys will get better progress than what you're getting now. This was more or less an update that I'm still alive and that I'm still working on this thing. Also, Youmu's here. So, blah blah blah see you next time.**_


	5. April Fools Chapter -1: The First Dream

**_I assume you're here to read my amplified stupidity for a moment. If not, you might want to skip ahead._**

Youmu's sleep was light. It was hard to find a comfortable position in a chair with such a small frame and loose cushion. Even harder was it to stay asleep without any blankets to cover her. She'd considered taking a spare one off the bed, but Cicero appeared to have curled himself into the sheets, wrapping his body in a cocoon-like shape. He looked too comfortable in such a form, she thought cynically. Still, she managed to ball herself up in the seat, knees brought up to her chin.

It still took some time for her to dose off with her mind funneling though so many different thoughts. Most channeled between the theme of self-damnation and hopeful thinking. She cursed her impulses for dragging her into a one-way journey. She held respect for Yukari, but letting herself get caught up in one of her plans was an undesirable achievement. Still, this was only the beginning; she shouldn't be so quick to judge the situation just yet. Her eyes wandered over to the cocoon on the bed. It remained a mystery to her why Yukari chose him to do her work, but perhaps if the answer felt so vague, she still had a great deal to learn.

The atmosphere wasn't much help to her restlessness. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, allowing her to see the dull glow of the lanterns hidden behind the distant fog of the city. Frost continued to draw itself onto the windows, the sight of them making her feel even colder. Paintings hung along the walls—most comprising of obscure philosophers she's never seen before—stared blankly towards her with stoic faces and unmoving eyebrows. Even the thin glow of light from beneath the door seemed dimmer than usual.

Youmu's eyes were finally growing heavy, complemented by a silent yawn escaping her. She rested her head as gently as she could, letting her sight slowly go dark. But as she began to drift, the eerie silence in the room seemed to loosen her nerve. She kept her eyes shut, trying to ignore the feeling, but the uneasiness worsened as she tried to ignore it. It was already silent in the room—not a sound was heard save for her breathing once Cicero had fallen asleep—yet something felt incredibly wrong. A subtle pressure seemed to build up inside her body, followed by a rising sense of dread. She heard the floor creak just barely and her eyes darted open.

By reflex, her hand grabbed the sheath of her Roukanken, and under normal circumstances, she would have pulled it out by now. When she saw who was in front of her, however, she just barely managed to keep her grip on the case. Standing idly in front of her was Cicero, his gaze blank with emotionless eyes. In the darkness, she could see a white glow envelope his eyes. He stood in front of her, looking at her almost like a ghost would to his own grave. The air around him seemed to move in every direction, flowing erratically through her hair. Youmu couldn't tell what it was about him now that made him more unnerving than before. She was about to open her mouth when he began to speak first.

"I'm looking to do some RP…" he muttered in a low Russian accent. Youmu's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"W-what?" she responded quietly, one hand still on Roukanken. In a matter of seconds, she started to deduce what he meant. "You're not… you're not talking about _roleplay_ are you? Shouldn't you be getting sleep?" she inquired. It was highly unlikely that was what he meant, but that vague concept was the only one she could connect to "RP."

"I'm looking to do some RP…" he repeated in the exact same tone. She struggled to figure out what other reasons there could be for the way he talked. Though she knew him for only a couple minutes, her assumption was that his voice would not switch between accents.

"…N-no…" she answered hesitantly.

"Too bad…" Cicero retorted dryly, maintaining the accent, "The Resurrection is inside you. Do you wish to continue? Yes or no."

Youmu raised an eyebrow at him, lips parting in confusion. "No, what are you—are seriously trying to—"

"Too bad…" he interrupted. She looked at him in silence, trying to process what she was supposed to do. This had to be an evaluation of some form. It was the only explainable reason. "Have you heard the good news about our lord… Jesus Christ?"

That had to be it. He was observing her reactions. Maybe he was waiting to see if she would stumble on something, or perhaps it was just an attempt to get a bearing on her behavior. Either way, she decided her best course of action was to play along with it for the moment.

"No. And I honestly don't care," she retorted straightforwardly.

"The good news…" Cicero added slowly, "Is that he slowly begin to take off your shirt…"

In the near pitch-darkness, Youmu could feel her cheeks flush bright red. "Wait, wait, what?" she said, straightening up in her chair.

"Your rock solid abs feel good against his coarse beard," he persisted with the Russian accent. "He _spit_ on your face, do you wish to continue, yes or no?"

Before her next retort could form, a shift in the light behind him caught her eye. In the passing seconds, she saw the shape of its arms, followed shortly by the glint of a trapezoidal blade raised behind him. Its silvery gray steel shined dimly from the light outside; its tip pointed directly at the back of Cicero's head, just inches away from his skull. Youmu's sight flicked between the blade and Cicero's unwavering expression, still fixed towards her with unblinking attention. She was far too stunned by his dialogue to react to the danger behind him, only gazing confusedly at it before jerking her other arm towards the hilt of her sword. By then, she was too late. Cicero dun got headstaybed.

"Oh, god dammit, Mikasa!" Cicero shouted in his normal voice. She shrugged, her head tilted at 90 degrees.

20 seconds later a miniature titan exploded out of the ground. It was like 6 feet tall. Its body was loaded with syringe needles and his muscles were more deflated than _your_ (that means you joey) mom's 1857 automobile tires. It was freaking disgusting. "Damn son I'm hungry," he said, his mouth full of various human body parts which were scaled down to be no larger than his teeth. As he picked up a large Caesar salad from the floor tiles her danced a jig and popped his neck like a possessed acrobat.

Mikasa grimaced as she saw the titan. She was so racist that she couldn't help but grimace at every miniature titan she threw her eyeballs at. Look at them. They were all so… naked. Mikasa couldn't be naked. Like, without the law getting whiny about it. She could hear it now. _"Mikasa goddamn put away them fine abs of yers everyun gon' be jelusc."_ Then they'd shoot her in the face. Five seconds later she slapped him across the face, making him drop his garden salad.

"My barbecue ribs!" he cried, entering the nearest elevator before putting his seat into the upright position.

Mikasa's sword went limp, and Cicero whipped it around on his forehead. "Avast! Antivirus Database has been updated!" he proclaimed, firing a stick through the mouth of a severed centipede. The next moment the titan had returned with eight bowls of chili, the lyrics to _High Voltage_ by Electric Six, and Cj Candelario.

"Ehhhhheheeeeh!" Cj whined, his face changing just about as much as Cicero's.

After that, Miaksa pretty much just picked up and RPG loaded with Shinji Ikari and fired the whiny little bitch at Youmu. The pre-pubescent useless projectile hit her square in the forehead, and the Underworld lit up in a seizuring mess of rainbows and other color-based vomit. It was like somebody found the universe where Skittles come from.

"Oh, for fuck sake Shinji!" shouted Freiza from the other side of Dallas, Texas, "You've started the _Fourth Impact!"_

* * *

Cicero pried his eyes open, agitated at the bullshit he just dreamed up. He scanned through the room, taking in the familiar silence he'd fallen asleep in. And then they died. The fucking end.

**_[Author's Idiocy] Happy AP CRAP gais :3. I go bored and decided to slap this in. Anyways, for the part that isn't a joke, I'm still working on this freaking thing, so make sure your seat cushions are nice and fluffy. What was that? You want me to provide reasons as to why I haven't uploaded? Simple!_**

**_1\. I'm lazy._**

**_2\. When I'm not lazy, adulthood fucks me over._**

**_3\. I'm not Tolkien, but I'm still only going to upload what I think isn't shit. And I'm still learning a great deal about writing._**

**_4\. Stop worrying. This thing is going to be pretty damn long by the time I'm done with it. It'll probably take years to complete anyways. So I repeat, might as well make a big story GOOD._**

**_So, remember, the good captain sez eat your fish._**

**_And I say, if you've actually stuck around this long, thanks._**


	6. Chapter 4: Patience

Youmu's sleep was light, at first—too light to do any dreaming. Most of her mind was occupied with the terrible feeling that had built itself up in her gut. When she left, the task felt simple. All she had to do was help someone finish something else, then come home. Most crises were brief in Gensokyo; she hoped it would take at most a couple days to resolve. Maybe she would have to come into combat at some point, which was to be expected. Still, when she left, it felt more like an unusual errand to run that she'd unwittingly signed herself up for than anything else. But as she curled herself up in her chair, something began to feel continuously off. It was hard to decipher whether it was from the mission at hand, or from Cicero himself. Either way, the feeling seemed to dig itself deep into her being. The feeling wasn't emotional, nor was it physical, to a degree. Though she couldn't find the words to describe it, this strange uneasiness was unlike any past worries she's had. Eventually, her mind drifted off, and slipped into a deeper sleep.

Even in her dreams, something was still clicking wrong in her head. Her mind wasn't fond of dreaming, and in most nights she either dreamed of nothing or whatever she envisioned were inconsequential memories of the past. Still, when she did dream, the images were clear, and the scene was always consistent. But tonight, it felt more like just a slideshow of images flashing across her sight. There was still movement, of course, but the events changed so quickly that she could hardly fathom what anything or anyone was doing. None of the images correlated with each other, with no rhyme or reason to any transition. Still, this wasn't the most unusual thing to happen to her at the moment. Lucidity, among other things, was something she never achieved during sleep. She could almost feel her physical stomach turn upside down as she began to realize she could turn her view at will, and almost walk around in this mess of collaborative insanity.

She looked down first, trying to spot both her feet and the ground they stood on. The former she couldn't find, and the latter changed so often that it didn't seem to matter. It did have a tendency of putting her on a relatively flat surface each time, which she guessed she should be grateful for. Even though her legs were out of view, she could feel them lift off the ground when she tried to move them, as if she was simply invisible to herself. Next, she tried her hands; the results were similar—no sign of their existence, but she could tell that they were "there," somewhere. She could almost walk through the dream, if only everything didn't change so quickly. Each time she took a step, the world around her would shift instantaneously to a new scenario, and each time she would find herself standing still again.

Still, Youmu couldn't help but feel amazed about the experience. Each time the world changed, she didn't just see a new place. She could smell new aromas, hear different sounds, and gain different feelings on the surface of her skin. Even the taste in her mouth seemed to change with each moment. At one time she could feel a warming, humid breeze she'd seldom experienced in Gensokyo; the air was so moist she almost wanted to cut through it. In the next moment, she felt colder, but her tongue could sense the aftertaste of a well-cooked meal, just as foreign as the air she felt a moment ago. As time went on, she grew more curious as to what she would experience next, and why this was all happening to her. But something started to happen. With each change, there was a small chance that she would catch sight of something unappealing—even horrendous if it was particularly bad. Sometimes she could feel an intense heat wash over the front of her body, accompanied by a bright white flash and a deafening roar of energy. The first time it occurred, she thought it was a glimpse into one of her own conflicts, but in its next passing, the same sound could be heard, this time next to her. It gave her a chance to glance at the world, but instead of finding a plethora of trees or mountains, she gazed forward at piles of rubble composed of brick and mortar. An unfamiliar scent met her, almost burning the inside of her nose with great intensity.

As these scenes progressed, the frequency of the more terrible happenings began to grow, reaching first to appearing every other moment, then overtaking the tendency of being the dominant occurrence in the sequence. She started to realize that with each differing disaster, her own mood seemed to sway to fit the moment. Many times she caught herself flagrant with anger, though caught up in the desire to maintain a certain unknown composure within herself. On other occasions she just felt cynical, mostly in the cases where the scene had her talking down to someone, whose states of being also varied from intimidated to terrified. Her head was starting to cave to the pressure of these frequent changes, and she could feel herself rapidly building a headache. Eventually, the pain intensified enough for her to almost break free of this nightmare and wake up.

But before she did, one more scene played itself out. This one lasted longer than the others, but not by much. While the other events lasted no longer than two seconds, she remained locked in this one for eight. She had time to fathom the things around her, but only grew depressed with each second. It was a beautiful, though uncanny sight. She stood in the midst of a colossal glass structure, the arched ceiling extending hundreds of feet above her. The structure seemed to resemble that of an Outer World structure humans tended to call a "cathedral," something she'd seen from old texts that Yukari allowed her to glance at. It was nothing like she expected, however. The floor, extending almost endlessly in each direction, was composed entirely of smooth marble, patterns of black, white and gray resting in wispy formations beneath her feet. The walls in the distance were made of glass, or perhaps they were mirrors, though they were so distant she couldn't see her own reflection. There were no supports either—no columns or beams that she could spot to support this massive structure, save for the arches that formed the stone ceiling.

Her skin burned again with an even more intense and ever growing source of heat from behind her, and the air was full of kicked up dust and stone debris. When she tried to look behind her, something compelled her not to. Her heart seemed to sink into a fit of unbridled sadness, which was one of the only emotions that had yet to present itself within the rest of the sequence. "She" didn't want to look, even though she wanted to force herself into looking anyways. She just couldn't do it. Something inside her had given up on trying at that moment, and in another blink her eyes were set on pitch darkness, and her ears on silence.

Youmu pried her eyes open, her face lined with sweat. Her body was shivering, but she couldn't tell whether it was from the dream, or from how cold the room had gotten. It would have been wise of her to grab a blanket or something before she went to sleep. She was back in reality, her sight adjusting to the lack of light in the bedroom as she sat in the chair. Her recent memories were coming back to her; she was still in the first few hours of trying to cope with this new assignment. Perhaps that was it, she tried to rationalize. The pressure of such an uncomfortable situation had set her mind off on a fever dream. After a few deep breaths, she rubbed her temples in an attempt to soothe the persisting headache that had followed her from that terrible realm of fantasy.

After a while, her eyes adjusted, and she looked around the room again just to double check on things. The windows still bore frost on their panes, though it had gotten marginally thicker since she last looked at them. The floor around the table near the door was still cluttered with the silhouettes of various objects that had fallen over when Cicero threw the pillow. And as for Cicero—well, he wasn't there.

Youmu's eyes jerked wide as she noticed that the sheets had moved to the side. Clearly, he'd gotten out on his own volition, but that didn't stop her from wondering where the hell he went. He said they'd work together, though it was hard to buy his proposition of operating on the same level. Maybe he'd left to explain why she was there already. Or maybe the bastard didn't care enough to let her do her job. She shifted out of her chair and stood straight up, gripping on Roukanken. But before she started to walk, she heard the sound of rushing water coming from the door next to her. In another moment, the door swung open, revealing the silhouette of a tall skinny man who was lowly humming an unfamiliar tune. As he walked out, his head turned towards her, and his hum quickly stopped. It was almost the same silhouette she'd first seen in the dark, though some of the edges seemed to have changed.

"I really hope you're awake right now," Cicero's voice said dryly through the darkness.

"W-what's that supposed to mean?" Youmu retorted in a hushed voice. She was caught off-guard by the suddenness of his statement.

Cicero's silhouette shrugged. "For all I know, you could just be a hell of a sleepwalker. Damn, defensive," he muttered the last part.

"What were you doing in there?" she asked, ignoring the remark.

"I was taking a piss."

"You were urinating?"

"Yes, Captain Articulate!" Cicero answered bluntly, his silhouette gesticulating exaggerated frustration with a lifting of his arms. "What, did you expect me to piss in the bath?"

"The _bath_?" Youmu's voice intensified, "You were bathing in there?" A long spell of silence spawned between them as she asked that question. After a few seconds, she started to figure that the question was more awkward than she'd intended.

At some point, a long sigh came from Cicero. "You know, I think I'd be offended by an accusation that I don't take frikkin' baths when I get the chance, provided I knew you any better. But _yes, _I take baths!" Another spell of silence came before he spoke out again. "By the way have you seen my pants?"

In the next instant, a loud noise emanated from the corner of the room as Youmu took a sudden step back, shifting the chair violently over as she moved. "Your pants?!" her face reddened in the darkness. "Don't tell me y-you're—"

"Oh, lord in heaven, no!" Cicero interjected. "I'm in my shirt and undies! What, did you think I was just going to prance around a total stranger while utterly naked in a small bedroom? Do you realize what would happen if Border Woman just pranced in at that exact moment, and saw _me_ walking around with my cold, shriveled up lemon hose flopping about in the air with _you_, asleep or not, within twenty feet of said phallic device?! I'd be embarrassed! I'd be very, very embarrassed!" Immediately she felt him jab her forehead with his finger. "Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"_My_ mind out of the gutter?" Youmu lashed back, standing closer to him, "What about you?! Who just asks a total stranger for their pants in a bedroom?

"Someone who doesn't want to feel the alluring breeze of the subterranean caverns on their leg hair!" Cicero retorted, nearly reaching a shout.

"You could have just found it yourself! Or _remembered_ it like most people would! Just what does Yukari want with someone like you anyways?!" She clasped her mouth with her hand after her utterance. Of all the ways to treat the person she was supposed to be following after they'd just met, she was careless enough to stumble like this. He had to have been egging her on. Or perhaps she was being too hopeful. Another silence came between them afterword, neither moving for nearly a minute. Each second seemed painstakingly long to her.

"Huh," Cicero finally spoke out in a low, almost vibrating tone, "I was really thinking you were going to be that subservient type of person. You know, the one that's supposed to obediently do what I say and all that shit. Yet here we are." His arms briefly extended outward to emphasize his meaning.

"I'm sorry," Youmu said just as lowly. Her head was facing downward at this point. "I've already failed to stay in line. It's shameful that I should act like this. Yukari sent me to be an asset to you, but… at this rate, I'll just be a disruption. I can't accept your offer for us to work as equals if I continue to act in such a manner." Slowly she lowered herself, kneeling down and putting her hands on the floor. "Please. Forgive me."

"Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah! Calm the fuck down!" Cicero shouted quickly, grabbing her by the shoulders and hoisting her back to her feet. "You're making me uncomfortable dude! Good god, you're like a pendulum!" Part of Youmu itched to tell him that so was he. Immediately after, he briefly shook her by the shoulders. "I wasn't done talking, numbskull!" He took another long sigh, which was preceded by an extended inhale through his nostrils. "Let me re-emphasize," he said more calmly, "I hate subservient attitudes. I really, really do. You're not gonna get far kissing someone else's feet like that. Take a stance. Stop sounding like a tool. If I wanted one of those, I'd buy a hammer. Just loosen up, _please!_ We'll get along just fine as long as you don't keep doing… well, the thing you just did. Okay?"

There was one more pause, this time relatively brief, before she answered. "Okay," she said quietly, nodding in the darkness.

"Good," Cicero said, "Now… Help me find my pants!" Though he couldn't see it, she grimaced at him as he told her. For a short span of time they rummaged through the floor, finding pieces of his attire scattered near each other on the floor next to the bed. Cicero identified each one, putting them on as well in order as he could, though he found his tie and coat before he found his dress shirt. Ironically, his pants seemed to be the last thing he found. Youmu had half a mind to tell him to light the candle, but felt that it would take him just as long to find the candle as it would have to find and put on his clothes in the dark. When he was finally dressed, he groped around the floor for the fallen piece of wax, eventually finding it halfway beneath the table. In another grumbling fit he searched for a second tinder and lit the candle, gifting the room with a dim ambient light.

"Just what are you doing here, Cicero?" Youmu asked quietly. Cicero stood in front of her, facing the mirror hung on the wall as he adjusted his tie; it was horrendously crooked from trying to tie it in the dark.

"What, she didn't tell you?" Cicero asked passively, his attention divided more towards his hand movements, "I'm looking for someone."

"Who?" she inquired further.

Cicero groaned as he listened. Half of his frustration went to that question, while the rest went to reacting to his screw-up in the knot. "See, this is why Gappy should have just let me tell people," he started on a tirade, "Could have just said 'it's _blah blah blah_,' but instead I have to keep dancing around it just to keep it a secret. And do you know why?" he turned to Youmu as he asked. She slowly shook her head in response. "Because she wants 'as few people as possible' to be involved with this fix. But she still sends _you _in because she wants _her_ crisis solved before dinner! Oh, god dammit!" He untied the knot a second time, repositioning the lengths again.

"What do you mean _her_ crisis?" Youmu inquired. She almost bit her lip from the curiosity that had overtaken her once again.

"It means this is her problem. Not mine," he answered, "If she wants it done quickly and quietly, she could pull it off herself. Oh, that's good." He smiled at his third attempt before making final adjustments to it. "How's it look?" he asked, turning back to Youmu.

"It's fine," she answered quickly, "So, you're not supposed to tell me?"

He reached for her Hakurouken, which he'd rested on the bed as he changed. "That's the idea," he answered casually, "though it wouldn't matter if I told you anyways. It would be stupid if we found her out in the open."

"It's a woman?" Youmu raised an eyebrow.

"Eeeeh…" Cicero grimaced, holding up his arm and wiggling his hand, "She acts more like a girl. Not that it really matters. I just need to find her." He reached for his boots, kneeling to the floor to put them on.

"In that case, we should go. Do you know where she might be?" Youmu asked, going back to grab Roukanken again.

"Nope," he responded.

"At all?" she followed up in a more confused tone, "Why did you come down here then?"

"Why did I—How far in the dark are you?" Cicero looked up behind him, finishing the first knot before moving to the next, "I got catapulted here with that one goal. 'Find her, and deal with her.' Now it's just you and me, kiddo!"

"W-well, how are we supposed to find her if we don't know where she is?" she stuttered. His general vagueness was getting to her.

"Do you see Border Woman's fucking problem now?" he tapped on the side of his head and sighed, finishing the other knot. "But, never fear!" he shouted with exaggerated bravado as he stood back up, "There is another way!"

"Well, what is it?" she crossed her arms.

"In terms of my old friend, subtlety isn't her forte. She'll pop out eventually. In the meantime, we can… Pffft, Idunno. Go sightseeing."

"So, we're just supposed to wait?" she frowned.

Cicero picked up his cap, which was still resting on the table. "Of course not. You just can't expect to find her quickly. Now then…" he walked over to the door, turning the handle. "I, or I guess _we_ need to speak to the owner. Oh, speak of the devil." His attention turned to the doorway as he spotted someone's shadow from the corridor's light. Satori stood in front of him, her face stoically gazing towards him. As silence crept in the room, Youmu kept still, unsure of how to react at the moment. Satori's eyes soon shifted towards her, and her expression seemed to harden momentarily.

"Oh, good morning," Satori said softly, looking back at Cicero, "I was curious if you had finished your rest yet. Are you feeling well?" Her tone was similar to that which she used in their first encounter, with a familiar air of cynicism.

Cicero stretched his arms behind him for a moment, wincing at the lingering soreness in his muscles. "Better than yesterday, I suppose," he answered cordially.

"Wonderful," she smiled; it seemed more forced than anything else. "Perhaps we can discuss your visit here, then?" she glanced at Youmu for a moment. "And… I see you have an acquaintance with you. Perhaps you could enlighten me why I wasn't given prior notice as well." Cicero nodded silently. "Excellent. Please, if you could follow me…" she trailed off and started to walk down the corridor. Cicero followed her out, motioning Youmu to join him. She moved reluctantly, trailing farther behind him.

"Would you like some tea?" Satori asked cordially, "I can have my pets fetch some for us."

"Those are some pretty dexterous cats you have," Cicero remarked, "I wouldn't mind some. What about you, kiddo?" he turned around to find Youmu staring out at the decorations on the walls. She seemed more enamored by the décor than the conversation. "She…. Would like some too."

Satori didn't answer, and they continued down the hall without any continuation. Strangely, the floating eye wired to her seemed to stare endlessly at him without so much as a blink as she walked. He raised an eye brow at it and it unsurprisingly gave no response. The palace sounded a bit livelier today, despite Satori's quiet nature. In the distance, he could hear faint voices, comprised almost entirely of girlish tones, on far ends of the corridor. In time, they passed by a small cluster of maids, who'd begun staring curiously at him and Youmu as they passed by. He started to realize what Satori meant by one of her pets. Some of them possessed cat ears on their heads, which appeared to prick upwards as they passed by. Others had wings attached to their backs, each pair varying in size. Most were shorter, extending just a couple feet, while a few were fairly longer.

A subtle chill seemed to fill the air in a couple forms. Cicero wasn't surprised by this small shift—he was impressed enough that such an old palace could retain heat as it did. However, another chill put him off. It came mostly from Satori, whose mood seemed to change as erratically as his, though at a seemingly slower pace. By appearance alone, she looked to be more aligned to a kind heart than the coldness she exuded now, though he wasn't fool enough to draw a conclusion based solely off that factor. She felt tense, to a degree.

Satori led them into a large parlor further inside the palace. The wall opposite the entrance held a large rectangular window overlooking the courtyard outside. The ceiling was just as tall as the corridors here, extending nearly a dozen feet above them. A series of chairs and sofas were arranged around the room, situated to accompany several small tables. On the wall to their right hung a large portrait of Satori, exaggerated greatly to lengthen her hair, increase her height, and dress her in an overly pompous purple dress with gems and lace. The other side held a similar portrait depicting Koishi, though with her sitting in a small wooden chair, hands folded on her lap. Cicero rolled his eyes at these aristocratic tendencies.

"Please, have a seat," Satori motioned them towards one of the clusters of sofas on the side nearest her portrait. They were all made of fine fabrics—not a piece of leather to be found. Cicero and Youmu sat next to each other, Satori situating herself on the loveseat across from them. "The tea will be here shortly," she said, crossing her legs, "In the meantime, let's begin, shall we?" Her sight turned again to Youmu, Satori's gaze growing colder with each pass. "Would you like to tell me who you are?"

"My name is Youmu Konpaku," she answered formally, "I am here to aid Cicero."

Satori's eyes narrowed in reaction. "I see. I've caught glimpses of you on my visits to the surface. Primarily in public gatherings alongside the ghost from the Netherworld. What was her name…"

"Ms. Yuyuko?" Youmu chimed in.

Satori rested a finger on her chin. "Yes, thank you. And in turn, I've seen her maintain frequent company with the Border Youkai. Could she have any correlation to the matters I'm dealing with?"

"And what matters would that be, Satori?" Cicero questioned, relaxing further into his seat.

"We will speak on that later, if you like, Mr. Cicero," Satori answered.

"Ah. Just Cicero, please. The last time someone gave me that title, it annoyed me half to death," Cicero smiled.

"I see, my apologies," she smiled back, "In any case, I find it crucial at the moment to know why both of you are here. I fear it's a matter of security that makes me so curious."

"Security?" Cicero raised an eyebrow.

"As I've said, we'll approach that subject," Satori responded, seemingly more tiredly than last time.

Cicero crossed his legs, slouching back in the chair and twiddling his thumbs. "Alright, if you insist. I'm looking for someone—a well-known individual to me. Due to certain circumstances, I'm afraid I can't divulge her details… but, I doubt it would lend you much aid in the first place, seeing as she hasn't been spotted for quite some time, from what I hear."

"Oh?" Satori leaned over, resting her head on her arm against that of the sofa. "I've never heard of such strange circumstances. Why is it that you cannot tell me?"

"A condition set on by my employer, I'm afraid," Cicero answered, "I've been tasked with finding her. Our acquaintance with each other was merely coincidental, and the only detail I felt I had the liberty of telling to others. Koishi was hoping to find out who by bringing me to you." Satori simply nodded to that piece of information. "And that's why she brought me here, of course."

"Interesting," Satori commented, "It's a shame this 'special property' of yours halts my perception of your mind." She spotted Youmu glance at Cicero as she made that comment. "It extends so far that I cannot even read your friend.

"Oh-ho, is that so?" Cicero asked, trying to hide a smile.

"Forgive me. I'm so accustomed to reading my guests that it put me off when you entered. Is there any way you could suppress this function for but a moment? I promise it's only to verify your credibility."

Cicero shook his head slowly, "I'm afraid I can't do that, in my current condition." Satori's eyes narrowed again at him. "What I mean is, I'm literally unable to take control of this function right now. It seems to be a sort of… 'supernatural' fatigue."

As he spoke, a redheaded girl bearing cat ears walked into the parlor, holding a platter with three cups and a kettle of tea. Her hair was tied into twin braids, each resting behind her shoulders; her dress was also darker than those of the maids he saw earlier. She moved to Satori first, handing her a cup before making her way around the table to Youmu and Cicero. Her expression was soft at first, but seemed to harden to one of suspicion as she neared them. As Cicero took the cup with a nod, he spotted the twin tails behind her. It reminded him of the cat he encountered on his way in.

"Thank you, Orin," Satori said to the girl before she bowed slightly and walked out. "Well," Satori turned her attention back to Youmu, "Could you tell me your reason for being here? And why you entered without any notice?"

"Well…" Youmu gripped the handle of her cup. "I was sent to aid Cicero on his task. I was told not to return until the task was completed." Cicero's face seemed to twist to a questioning expression when she said that.

"Mmm…" Satori acknowledged as she sipped her tea, "So, the Border Youkai is involved after all. An unsurprising revelation, I suppose."

"How did you conclude that?" Youmu asked.

"One of my pets would have informed me if you were here. Even if they didn't, your mind would have been easy to detect. Still, you seemed to just… _show up_ inside the range of your partner's influence. It strikes me as… rather convenient."

"I see…" Youmu muttered.

Satori continued on. "In any case, I'm afraid there's naught I can do for your dilemma. I'm preoccupied with a certain matter that requires my attention. You'll have to find aid elsewhere."

"Hmm, that's a problem," Cicero scratched his chin, "We're starting blind from this point, essentially. It would have been nice to have a person with influence at least give us a lead… Or, you know, at least it's a comfy place." He shrugged his shoulders. "But oh well, could you at least tell me what this dilemma of yours is?"

"What piques your interest?" Satori questioned.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could answer, the ground shook violently with the accompaniment of a heavy rumble. The sudden force of the quake knocked over several loose objects in the room, as well as shifting the paintings on the wall. The chandeliers above them swung to and fro as the palace shook. Cicero straightened up, nearly spilling his tea before it quickly ended. He and Youmu stood up from their seats, surveying the property damage. Quickly, they looked over, spotting Satori still seated on the sofa, her body stiff and eyes tightly shut. At this point, Cicero began to notice the dark circles around her eyes, and recalled the generally tired look she seemed to have during the conversation.

"I take it your city experiences this often?" Cicero asked casually. Satori didn't answer, still tense in her seat. Her hair seemed to float in the air slightly, and her body was outlined with an extremely dull glow. "Satori?"

A minute later, she opened her eyes, letting out a quick exhale and covering her forehead with her hand. She looked fairly exhausted compared to her already tired state just a moment ago. "Unfortunately not…" she said hoarsely.

"That didn't just feel like a quake. It was too sudden," Youmu commented, "It had to be an impact of some sort."

Satori nodded slowly and pointed to the window. "Go and look outside." The pair moved towards the window, looking out at the courtyard. It was larger than they expected, extending hundreds of feet to the next building across. The ground was covered almost entirely by snow, dull trails of torches marking the walkways. Small ponds built into the stone structure remained still with frozen water, their surfaces dark from the lack of light. At the very center of the courtyard stood a large garden lined with small fields and an array of hedges leading to the dead center. There, they could see a bright pinkish-purple glow emanate from the garden. "Do you see the light?" Satori spoke just audibly enough from the sofa, "That is the Blazing Hell's entrance."

"Blazing Hell?" Cicero inquired, turning back to Satori.

She nodded. "The city's source of heat, as well as the former operating zone for the true Hell. It rests within my property, and with it I was able to take control of the agricultural regulation of the city."

"Agriculture in a place called Blazing Hell," Cicero said dryly.

"Yes. The highest levels are filled with fertile soil from decomposed corpses. With some magical engineering, my palace created seeds that germinated to the heat of Blazing Hell. We can yield twice the crops of Gensokyo's surface farms, even without the aid of additional fertilization. With it, the city was able to maintain independence from surface trade. And the palace nets a considerable profit as well. Nearly all of the city's vendors come here to purchase food for their businesses." Satori seemed proud of her explanation.

"You made a practical monopoly out of the cavern's only source of food," Cicero commented in relative awe, "Nice. So, what's the problem, then?"

Satori rubbed her temples before she answered. "Blazing Hell has gone cold."

"How so?" Youmu asked.

She shook her head. "I'm not sure, exactly. Blazing Hell naturally produces its own heat—enough to keep the city warm, despite the occurrence of _some_ snowfall in the winter. But take a look."

They turned back to the window, looking outside again. The layer of snow on the ground was fairly thick, and the flakes that fell were fat and wet. In the distance, Youmu could see a large conic shape resting in the snow. It was a stalactite, likely fallen from the quakes. It rested on its side, broken into pieces, most of which were also covered in snow. It had been there for some time.

"The City of Former Hell has never experienced snowfall of this amount," Satori continued, "I've only seen this much one winter on the surface. And right now, it's summer…"

Cicero raised an eyebrow, "How does a cavern have this much water content in the air? I'm surprised you even get snow at all."

Satori shrugged. "It just tends to occur in this place. Still, this is excessive. Even if Blazing Hell cooled down, the furnace should have maintained the temperature easily."

"Tell us what this furnace is," Youmu said, turning once again to Satori.

"I'm… not entirely sure what it is supposed to be," Satori answered quietly, "It's an ancient star that's rested inside Blazing Hell for quite some time. My pet Utsuho had awakened it a while ago, and now it's supposed to generate a great amount of heat." Cicero's expression began to darken as she explained, and he began to pace around the room. "She was tasked with maintaining it with the help of what they called 'nuclear' power. Many kappa from the surface have taken interest in it. I allowed them to build an observatory around it."

Cicero continued to pace for a moment before he stopped to look at her. "A star. Hmm. A star… I wonder… Could you take us to the furnace, Satori?" he asked.

She shook her head. "That purple glow you see is a barrier. I've been holding it up for several days now."

"What are you holding off?" Youmu asked.

"Demons. Spiteful souls once kept at bay by Blazing Hell's infernos. There were only a few of them that could survive such heat, but now, they've begun to multiply in the cold. They've filled the entrance, gathering up in an attempt to escape. I've had to put my attention to this barrier… It's so hard to keep up for some reason… If I even try to sleep, it will dissipate in minutes…." Cicero pursed his lips as he realized the reason for her exhaustion. He was also observing a miniscule pattern that may be forming.

"Fascinating!" he said enthusiastically, "Maybe you could let us stay here for just a bit longer."

"Why is that?" Satori asked quietly.

"That furnace is a perfect place to begin my search. And even if it's a fluke, it would help build your trust if we could alleviate this problem. Besides…" he added, "Like it or not, you won't stay awake forever."

Satori glared at him for a minute, then her expression softened. They were suspicious, surely, but at the moment, they posed no true threat. She took a deep breath through her nose then nodded slightly. "If that is what you wish. But please. Stay clear of the entrance for as long as my barrier stands."

"If you wish to hold it off for a little longer…" Cicero answered, trailing off. "Oh, one more question. How is—"

"Still resting. She really did overestimate herself…" Satori answered quickly. "In any case… you're welcome to eat, if you wish. Please be modest, though. Food will not be available to make until this crisis is resolved. Otherwise, you may explore anywhere but the courtyard. And my bedroom."

The two nodded, Youmu adding a subtle bow out of cordiality, Cicero clumsily following the gesture, before walking out. They made their way back to the room first, just to make sure nothing was left behind.

"We should investigate that barrier as soon as we can," Youmu said, walking next to Cicero.

"Mmm," was his only response.

"After a quick survey, we may be able to resolve the issue within a few days, then see if the furnace leads to who you're looking for."

"Pffft… few days? You must be in a rush." Cicero commented.

"We have to find her as quickly as possible if Yukari has taken interest," Youmu retorted, "If she's responsible for this issue, then she needs to be held accountable."

Cicero let out a long sigh with a dismissive expression. "You just want to go home, don't you?"

"What?" Youmu responded. She wasn't sure what else to say to him.

"Look, kiddo. I know _her_ enough to know she operates as slowly as I do. The world isn't coming to an end. Not yet. And by the looks of it, it's not going to happen for a long, long time." He could see a subtle scowl in her expression as he explained. His eyes shifted wistfully towards the ground, and his expression grew only slightly dark. "There are forces at work, Youmu. A myriad of concepts and ideals stirring around somewhere beneath the collective conscious of this world, waiting with dire anticipation to be released into new minds and cultures all for the sake of higher powers who want to see civilization shift and churn for the sake of their own intrigue. _Our_ presence here has guaranteed the irreproachable coming of these ramifications."

"Cicero," Youmu turned to look at him, "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know," Cicero muttered, tugging a new smile onto his face, "I'm too hungry to tell."

_**[Author's Excuse] No, I don't have an excuse for taking this long on one chapter. Except that I have to balance a job, this fic, and other prospects of arrogant aspirations at the same time. The good news is, the next chapter's already almost finished. So, that makes up for it... Right...?**_


	7. Chapter 5: Refraction

They made a brief stop to their room, tracing their way back along the path Satori had led them. It only took a few seconds for Cicero to ensure that he'd left nothing behind, but he waited a few minutes as Youmu searched through the wardrobe next to the bed. The air felt colder since she first entered, and asked Cicero to wait as she raided the closets for something warmer to put on. Had she known she was coming to some place that was snowing, she would have dressed herself more than with just her typical blouse and skirt. That implied she had any time to prepare at all before leaving. It wasn't like she had a flashy military suit to help her stave off the cold.

She rummaged through each individual piece in the wardrobe before slipping them on and taking another look in the mirror. Cicero stood near the table, the candle having been lit and put back into its proper place. She only needed something to wear over herself, so the majority of her selection consisted of large coats and jackets. It saved her the trouble of having to shoo out Cicero for decency's sake as well. Still, it couldn't have taken any longer to find a coat she liked. She wasn't that picky about the style, and though she'd like something to match with the rest of her outfit, it was a more a matter of functionality. If she had to use her sword, she didn't want her movement restricted too much.

Cicero seemed to have his attention divided between her and the clock on the other side of the bed, which read 6:14. It was hard to tell whether that indicated morning or evening, but it felt like it had been a while since she came here—it appeared she slept longer than expected. There were only five more coats for her to choose from now, and the first had already failed her inspection.

"I don't understand your 'magic,'" Cicero uttered eventually as she moved to the second of the five.

"What do you mean?" Youmu asked, her attention still emphasizing the outfit. She grimaced at a gaudy jacket lined with several rows of fluff along the outside. She wouldn't be caught dead in this thing, both for looks and its painfully small size.

"Well, to get the complicated shit out of the way first, I don't believe in the idea," Cicero said dryly.

"You don't believe in magic?" Youmu asked, slipping the jacket off and tossing it on the bed. He looked pensive, leaning against the wall with his sight still fixed on the clock.

"It's always such a loose thing whenever I hear about it," he continued, resting a hand on the table, "There are no rules to it most of the time. You just cast a spell and _boom_, problem solved. Feh…" he scoffed.

"What are you talking about?" Youmu responded, looking over at him as she reached for the next coat. He must be talking about the magic in literature. "Youkai could easily dispense magical energy at a given time. Maybe _you_ couldn't work it so well, but even then you could still learn it. Eeeeeh…" Her attention was still more towards the jacket. It was far too puffy for her to move around comfortably in.

Cicero pursed his lips. "That's not what I mean. Even if you could bring it out with ease, it's such a pain if the effort takes so much energy from you."

That didn't sound right to her. "I don't follow," she replied with another coat toss.

Cicero paused and looked back out the window. More frost had settled onto the frame, to neither of their surprise. "Did you know that the mistress Satori had a sister?" he asked.

"Of course not. I've never been here before," she retorted as she held up the fourth piece. It was so hard to see most of the details of each coat, with such dim lighting that it was beginning to irritate her. Briefly, she set the coat back down and made her way to the table next to Cicero to find tinder for the candles on the wall.

"Satori coaxed her into fighting me when I came…" he said as she approached him, "She started throwing all these… giant glowing balls at me from out of nowhere." He moved slightly out of her way as she began to search through the drawers.

"You survived a danmaku battle?" Youmu raised an eyebrow. Though he was odd, Cicero looked nothing more than human. Lasting even a few moments in one with his mobility would have been unusual.

"Dan-what?" Cicero raised an eyebrow.

And if he was this clueless, it would have been more incredible, she thought, sighing loudly. She turned her attention back to the drawers as she began to talk. "Danmaku. It's a common form of magical weaponry we use on Gensokyo. It's useful for settling all kinds of disputes. Its main focus is on visual disorientation rather than strength. If you can either confuse or dazzle your enemy, they will become more likely to be struck by your barrage. Understand?" In her explanation, she still hadn't found any matches in three of the drawers.

"Sure, sure," Cicero waved passively, "but that's not my point. Why does magic in general seem so draining?"

"It _isn't_. Where did you get that idea?" she switched over to the other column of drawers. Come to think of it, however, the palace mistress' exhaustion seemed out of place. Perhaps it was the result from too much work.

"When I was having a 'dan-mocks-you' fight with Satori's sister Koishi. The girl nearly blew me to pieces if she hadn't passed out so quickly," he explained, "And she seemed so nice too."

"Of course it had to be in the last one…" Youmu sighed as she found a trio of matches in the bottom of the drawer, "How long did you two fight?"

"I don't know, like, a minute?" he shrugged.

"What? That's it?" Youmu looked back up at him, gripping the matches in her hand. As unlikely it would be for him to survive even that long, it still seemed incredibly short.

"I told you, she passed out," he shrugged again, tapping his finger on the mahogany surface, "Is that supposed to happen?"

"No. Not at all," Youmu said with greater intrigue. She moved back to the other side of the room, lighting a match and holding it near the candles closest to her. "I'm still surprised you came out unscathed with just that."

"Ehhhh, more or less…" he muttered, "But now that you've said that, I'm interested. Why _did_ she pass out?" The room had gotten slightly brighter now, Youmu having lit her half of candles. She blew out the last match and returned to the fourth coat. "It's been eight hours. She must have been pushing it if she's still asleep."

"Oh, that's who you were asking about earlier," she recalled his last question to Satori before they left, "The mistress was fairly hasty answering you. Do you think she's hiding something?" her attention was fixed back on the coat again. It seemed a bit nicer than the rest thus far.

"I dunno," he commented, "But Koishi is going to wake up eventually. And Satori will take her place as well…" his expression darkened for a moment before switching to one of interest. "Which reminds me, I need to check on something. We've got the time for it." He looked up at the ceiling, his expression switching again to a grimace. "But first, we need to eat. Are you done yet?"

"Calm down. I think I like this one," Youmu said, the slightest hint of a smile forming at the corners of her mouth as she looked into the mirror. It was a simple dark green cloak extending down to her knees. The shoulders were caped, interestingly. The fabric felt light, but it was warm enough for her to tolerate the cold a little more. The rims of the cloak were lined with a small complement of fur, running from the hood to the bottom; the cape also had its own lining. Overall, it seemed to match her general appearance. After a few seconds, she turned to him, twisting herself around to give him a thorough view. "Is this okay?"

"You're implying I ever cared about fashion," Cicero said flatly, to which she frowned. It was disappointing that he couldn't at least humor her. A second later, he rolled his eyes. "But it looks fine. Can we go now?" he motioned to the door. Youmu's mouth curved to a smile as she began to walk past him. For a moment, a faint glint seemed to shine in the blue of her eyes.

She was leading down the corridor this time, striding ahead as he closed the door behind him. She had a feeling that if Cicero were to lead, he'd take them on an endless run through a maze if he didn't ask for directions. She stopped a young maid, quickly touching her shoulder from behind to get her attention. Cicero watched on as he made his way towards them, watching Youmu give a slight bow to the girl holding a stack of towels.

"Pardon me, I'd like to know the way to the dining room, if you could tell me," Youmu stated cordially.

"Oh, of course. You're the mistress' guests," she smiled, turning in the direction of the corridor opposite to them, "There is a dining room down on the first floor. Simply turn right at the crossing there, then take the staircase on the left. Afterwards, turn right at the farthest corner and walk to the end of the hall. The dining room will be just ahead."

"Thank you," Youmu responded, bowing again before walking back to Cicero. "This way."

They took the way they were told, Cicero beginning a series of awkward stares behind Youmu as she walked. Every now and then, she'd turn around and look at him. Each time, his eyes would shy away from her. She looked back once after the turn of a corner, then again a few feet later, and the reactions were still the same. It felt like he was examining her in some form, and it was unclear whether she was supposed to take it as a complement or a bout of suspicion. He wasn't subtle about it either, always turning his head aggressively away whenever she checked on him. They took the flight of stairs down to the first floor, then continued down the last series of hallways. She could feel his gaze down the back of her neck, and frankly it was getting annoying. As they turned the corner, the door to the dining room stood open, but before they went any further, Youmu stopped in her tracks. Cicero paused behind her, not saying a word. Quickly, she turned on her heel and looked straight at him. This time, he didn't turn away, and his face bore slight confusion, though she could still see the curiosity in his eyes.

"What?" Cicero asked, hands in his coat pockets.

"What are you looking at me for?" she asked straightforwardly.

"Well I can't follow you if I don't know where you are," he responded with the faintest air of sass.

"But what are you always looking away for?" her face hardened.

His expression responded in the same manner. "What do you mean?" he asked slowly.

She crossed her arms. "Every time I look back at you, you turn your head and look away like a shy puppy. Is there something wrong with me?"

"Oh, that? Well it's… It's nothing important…" he muttered, scratching the back of his head.

"Clearly, it is, if you're going to act like this," she asserted, taking a step towards him. "Now tell me what you're looking at."

"Kiddo, it's seriously nothing," he waved passively.

"Then you wouldn't mind telling me if that is the case," she said with a more authoritative tone.

"Gaaaah…" he groaned deeply, running his hand down his slack-jawed face. "Can't we just let it go and move on?"

"No."

He sighed loudly, turning around and waving his arms on his side before turning back to her. Slowly, he lifted up his hand, pointing off near her shoulder. "What the hell is that?"

She looked up to where he was pointing, spotting the hazy translucent bulb of supernatural energy floating above her. She wasn't sure what to be surprised at, that she didn't tell him what it was, or that he waited this long to reluctantly ask like some shy kid. "My phantom half? That's it?" she looked back at him with a perplexed expression.

"Phantom half?" Cicero repeated, a look of suspicion on his face. Before she had time to blink, he brought up his fist and knuckled her in the forehead.

"Ow!" Youmu reeled back, "What was that for?!"

"You don't feel like a damn ghost!" he shouted.

She stepped back towards him as she rubbed her forehead. "It's my phantom _half_! It's just another part of me! What was so hard about asking?!"

"Well, I'm sorry if I want to be polite every now and then!" he put his hands on his hips, "It would have been rude if I was asking you if it was like your dead sister or something!"

For a short instant, she denied the possibility of him being the guy she was supposed to follow. He was supposed to be Yukari's person of interest? Hell no, it would have been easier to follow around a drunkard in this city than this uncanny black man. "Why do you act like such a child?"! she shouted back at him.

"Because I'm a god!" he hollered at the top of his lungs.

She opened her mouth, but hesitated after fathoming what he said. "…Excuse me?!" she looked on with unparalleled confusion.

Soon Cicero went silent, his face growing solemn under the shadow of his cap. He straightened his back, turning away from her with hands folded, and looked up at the ceiling. He stood there for a few seconds, the silence growing between them like before. "You see, Youmu… I'm a god… A god that has brought mortals to their knees with my power… I am…" He turned back around, face ablaze with burning passion; he slammed his knee to the floor and raised his fist high into the air. "_The God of Unbearable Hunger!_" his voice rang throughout the corridors, reverbing off the walls before leaving behind another air of silence.

Youmu looked back at him sardonically, her lips slightly parted. "…What?"

"And the oooonly waaaaay to saaaate myy wrath…!" he continued in a choir-like bravado as he gesticulated furiously with his arms and legs, "is to feeeed me….. until me belly is fuuuuull!" He paused again, striking an uncomfortably stupid pose before straightening up and walking towards the dining room. "So come on, I'm way too fucking hungry," he added in a normal voice, grabbing Youmu by the wrist and dragging her with him.

"Ah, hey! Let me go!" she said, stumbling forward.

The dining room was modest in size, accommodating fourteen seats on each side of its lavish cloth-covered table, the surface of which was populated by several decorative plants flaunting white and dark blue colors. Cicero looked underneath, tapping on the mahogany wood with delight. A row of tall windows lined the wall to the left of them, looking into the courtyard once more. Large dunes of snow had settled on the lowest parts of the panes. Portraits hung as high as the brazen chandeliers, depicting men and women with varying shades of pink hair. In the corners were also busts of similar individuals. One could imagine they were the mistress's predecessors.

They sat next to each other at the table, waiting for only a minute before a series of maids walked in, one asking what they would like. Youmu went first, requesting a series of various pastas and light foods before ending with a bowl of dumplings. She wanted to see how their dumplings compared to hers. Cicero requested a vast array of meat-based dishes, which they had to mostly deny, to his chagrin. They quickly explained that they had meat from their own livestock, but most of it was saved for sales to vendors. Additionally, Satori was evidently against having her personal residents eating meat. He complained thoroughly about the absurdity of her logic before replicating Youmu's requests.

It wasn't long before one maid came in with a small platter of hot bread rolls and butter, to which Cicero quickly served himself, nearly burning his mouth before comprehending just how hot they were. Youmu took one as well, kindly thanking the maid before she left. She turned her attention back to Cicero for a moment as he bit off a piece of the roll. He was quiet again, looking straight out the window ahead of him as he chewed. It almost seemed like he'd returned to a state of regality—the kind of way he looked for only a few seconds at her whenever he spoke with an almost unnervingly formal tone—and in all honesty, the inconsistency was infuriating. She thought back to their dialogue with Satori, how he sounded like he actually had priorities and didn't mentally wander just to confuse her. Maybe he always did, and she just needed to learn to read him. Eventually, the entrees rolled in on a small convoy of maids and tables as they set the platters around their guests.

"Thank you for the food," Youmu clasped her hands together at the maids before flashing a scowl at Cicero, who'd already piled a serving of nearly every dish onto his plate. He gave a thumbs-up to the maids as his mouth was already full. Focused or not, he had no manners. She sighed and followed suit with the food as the maids left.

The next small span of time had returned to a similar bout of silence, one glancing at the other at scattered intervals during their meal. Cicero wolfed down his contents fairly quickly, doing away with most of the only roast chicken to be provided in the selection. He'd left a drumstick and a bit extra for Youmu, who was quietly fiddling away at the food with her silverware. It would have been ideal to her to use chopsticks, but she felt she had little choice but to conform as a guest. His eyes followed the phantom half that floated higher over her head as she ate, sometimes hovering closer to various dishes at certain times. Sometimes it read off her thoughts, reacting to her desires at random intervals. It did this to her food often, always stopping at what she considered getting. At other times it would react according to her emotions.

There were two ways to tell. Movement determined the nature of her thoughts, while the length of its "tail" portrayed her emotional state. In calmer states, it moved slowly, leaving behind only a small trail behind it. Whenever she was angry, or in a panic, it would fly more sporadically, the tail extending up to several feet longer. Right now, it was slow, though the tail was a medium length—no shorter than four feet. As the piles of delicacies shrank, she turned her eyes to the windows in front of them. She could see the faint emanations of purple light reflecting off the flakes that fell over the center of the courtyard. Cicero twirled his spoon in his hand, looking in the same direction.

"What do you think she's hiding?" Youmu asked, working the last piece of chicken she was willing to put up with.

"Whatever's worth hiding, I'm guessing," he responded casually, sitting back in his chair, "I'm still thinking about that sister."

"Do you have some sort of connection with her?" she asked quickly.

"No, no. I still want to know just what made her pass out. If it's really that Duck-moth-stew—"

"_Danmaku…_" she corrected cynically.

"…That, then there ought to be a cause for that problem." He put his hand on his chin for a moment. "And then there's the pet."

"Do you think that's the cause?" Youmu asked, wiping her mouth after her final bite.

Cicero shrugged. "I don't know, maybe. If that thing is supposed to be heating the star in that place, it would likely be overpowered as hell. But as far as the magic thing goes… I have no clue. But the biggest thing—" In the midst of his talk, the room jolted with intense force, accompanied by a deafening crashing noise from outside. The force knocked Cicero to the floor while Youmu clung to the table in her seat. The chandeliers above swiveled violently, dropping waves of snuffed out candles from their racks. The sound of shattering glass erupted near them before they spotted dozens of tiny shards fly over them.

They kept their heads down until the last quake faded off, waiting a little longer as a portrait finally gave up and fell off the wall and fell with a crash. The screaming wind outside had invaded the room, blowing large wet flakes inside. Youmu was the first to stand back up, clenching her coat at the collar. Surprisingly, it was more effective at staving off the cold air than she expected. Cicero followed shortly after, straightening his hat and tie as he stood up. He looked down in disappointment as he spotted most of the food scattered across the ground, before looking in disgust at the chicken broth that stained his pant leg.

"That's just fucking great…" he muttered to himself before looking at the damage. It was nearly pitch-dark now, the remaining candles being blown out by the wind. The dunes of snow had made their way in through the former positions of the windows. Cicero and Youmu walked out to the frames, looking into the courtyard. Most of the torches lighting the outside had blown out while the other windows also appeared to have been destroyed by the shock. A few lights emanated from where some remained intact enough to keep the candles alive. Now the most prominent luminescence came from the center in bright purple. "You know, I was planning to have dessert before all hell broke loose," he commented loudly.

"The barrier's still up. We need to see what's happening to it, Cicero." Youmu said over the holler of the wind. She could see his silhouette turn to her briefly before moving up the snow. The outline of his hat moved side to side before stopping again.

"We had a deal, remember?" she heard him say, "But I still have errands to run."

She followed after him, stepping up the hill of snow and passing through the opening into the courtyard. It was difficult to see where to step, though the light of the barrier reflected dimly off the surface. The air was much colder outside, and though her cloak still managed to break the wind, the snow went up to her shins. The lower layers were dry and powdery, saving her socks from soaking immediately, but the fresher portions were comprised of these new wetter pieces. The chill quickly began to sting her legs—maybe she should have taken better consideration of the cold. She continued to follow Cicero through the dark, tracing his footsteps as best as she could to avoid dragging her feet entirely. He was farther ahead now, trudging through without so much as looking back.

"You almost sound uninterested in going down there!" she hollered, trying to keep her focus on him rather than the cold.

"Of course I want to go!" he hollered back, continuing onward, "However I don't feel like rushing!" He stumbled briefly as he reached the edge of one of the frozen pools. Youmu followed him as he went around, giving her some time to close the distance. "I mean, think about it! If I'm having this much 'fun' staying alive up here, I wouldn't feel too enthused about jumping into uncertain death!"

"I see…" she responded. It was obvious she still had severe doubts about how he was supposed to survive anything Gensokyo threw at him. Under that fancy military coat and nonchalant behavior, she still saw a normal human. She kept looking at him, and the more she thought about it, she wondered why the cold was bothering her so much. It still would have been annoying to stay in the cold so poorly dressed, but to feel almost numb already was more than anomalous for a youkai.

It was just bright enough to see the other structures in the distance. The palace felt more like a town within a town when viewed from the outside. The main building was spectacularly large, with the others not far behind in their scale. The closest to them was still a fair distance away, resting on the latter half of the courtyard. Its design was similar to the first, bearing an architectural design that was somewhat alien to the rest of Gensokyo's Japanese origins. There was a faint resemblance between this and the mansion she'd once visited on the surface, though the palace was the victor in general elegance. A stained glass window of a three-footed raven could be seen, as comparable again to the first, but the others on the exterior were either cracked or shattered entirely.

The farthermost structure at the end of the property was too dark to see entirely, but Youmu could see a dome-like shape on the center of its roof. The design was sleeker than the others, and there were still a few faint sources of light emanating from the middle. Faint colors of light and dark green stood inside, thick near the bottom and streaking off like gradually thinning lines near the top. It must have been some form of greenhouse. They were halfway across the courtyard now, the entrance to Blazing Hell visible from where they were walking. Cicero had taken a path hugging the right side, giving them a fair distance from the center. It was surrounded by a small system of hedges, the main walkways expanding several hundred meters across. Perched along the edges were countless wooden setups of cranes, ropes and pulleys over the hole itself, with several empty wagons and barrels surrounding it.

Across from them stood the third structure, also extremely distant from them. It was nearly impossible to tell what it was, now that the glow of the barrier was getting in her way. Given how tall and wide it was, however, it was fair to guess it was some form of storehouse. It was practically larger than the main building, which would have made sense, if there really was farmland large enough to sustain the entire city from down there. Something sat a little off with her, knowing that a girl like Satori would have such control over a whole city. It wasn't about the ethics—there have been plenty of questionable things Yuyuko and Yukari have done other than monopolization, but it seemed almost out of place. Satori didn't seem like a person to manage business so heavily, though looks could have been deceiving. Still, it bugged her for little valid reason.

They neared the building closest to them, Cicero slowly stepping up to the double doors and pushing them open. He peeked inside for a moment before walking in, making his way down a short corridor. Youmu was shivering at this point, her socks soaked to the skin. She clutched her cloak as she followed Cicero, the cold tapering off inside the building, though it was still prominent. It was slightly dark as well, only a small handful of candles having been lit. Youmu wasn't sure whether these candles held an enchanted wax or not, but it was odd seeing that some were lit and some were not. Cicero opened the door at the end of the hall, peeking in again before pushing the doors open and walking into a large empty ballroom with marble flooring. It was dark in here as well, though only because the only candles that weren't lit were the ones from a fallen chandelier on the other side of the room. The others gave a dim ambience. This room was devoid of windows, allowing a little bit of heat to be retained. Regardless, her feet continued to sting; all Youmu wanted to do at the moment was take her shoes off. Cicero's pants were also soaked, but it appeared his boots extended high enough not to get on his legs.

"Right, this looks like a good open place," he said, walking farther off. The soles of his boots echoed across the empty chamber.

"So, will you tell me why I had to drag my legs through three feet of snow?" Youmu asked, quickly slipping off her socks and rubbing her shins. Cicero continued to walk until he was a few dozen feet away.

"I figured it would be a good way to show you how impractical it would be to _just _have that cloak," he grinned, turning around to face her. "But that's just a bonus." He gave a stretch of his arms and legs, followed by a quick cracking of his neck. Briefly, his eyes shut, and he took a deep breath before straightening his back into a steadfast position. "So, shoot me," he said dryly.

"Shoot you?" Youmu echoed. She was waiting for him to give some punchline, but his expression appeared a lack of enthusiasm to deliver this time.

"Shoot me," he echoed back. His eyes were focused, poised in a similar fashion to the way he looked at her the first time they met. "With your… 'danmaku,' as you call it. A low-yield variant, if you could please, I'd like to keep my limbs if something happens," he added. "You… you can make it explode _less_, right?"

"Well, yeah. But why do you want me to shoot you?" Youmu raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, so," his attitude began to loosen up. "Remember when I said I was a god earlier?"

"…Yeah?" she responded slowly.

"Well, that's still a bullshit lie," he shrugged. She grimaced at him before he could continue. "_But_, I do have some special… uh, things, that I can do."

"Like…?" she crossed her arms.

"Special things," he said flatly. Youmu stood still, waiting to see if he would add anything else. "But I need to know if they work… Okay?"

"But what are these _'special_ things?'" she added in quotations with her fingers.

Cicero rolled his eyes. She was a stubborn thing at times. 'Things that don't normally abide by the laws of physics, okay? Look, if they even still work, you'll figure out what I do. And if not, then it doesn't fucking matter, right? Right. So, shoot me." His eyes returned to focus, and he stood straight up again.

Youmu made a long sigh before taking a half-readied position. She extended an arm towards him, a small cascade of bullets spawning from around her. There were only a few dozen, varying between colors of light blue and yellow. As they left her range, she noticed an immediate oddity about it. She almost felt, to a certain degree, tired.

Cicero's eyes widened, and he quickly hopped out of the way, the bullets careening into the wall in the distance. They flashed brightly as they hit, dispensing loud pops upon impact. There was only a small cloud of dust, much smaller than those created by Koishi. "Allow me to clarify," he stated, "Just one, please."

She nodded, and extended her arm again, a single yellow bullet appearing in front of her hand. This one flew at the same speed, Cicero maintaining his stance. His eyes were fixed on the bullet as it sailed towards him. He looked like he was just trying to stare it down, or rather, examine it as it came closer. At the last moment, he shut his eyes, the bullet slamming square in his chest. He made a loud shout as the force of the impact threw him back a couple feet from where he stood.

"Cicero, are you alright?" Youmu called over to him. She'd made them as weak as she could without losing their typical speed. It could have only hurt him if he had the frailty of someone old.

"Gaaaaah…" she heard him groan on the floor.

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

"No, that's not my problem," he said roughly, picking himself off the floor, "That's just a very bad sign."

"A sign of what?" she asked. Her eyes had grown slightly heavy from the last volley. It was like she'd been drained of energy. She didn't feel tired enough to be impaired, but to feel like this, she would have had to have been unleashing true curtains of unhindered danmaku for some time to reach this state.

"A sign that this is going to take a little longer than we both hoped for…" he muttered.

"So, this power of yours is gone, then," she tried to clarify.

He shook his head. "Not gone, but definitely not 'here' either. The influence was there, I could tell, but the change was small. Like, really damn small. I'm out of tune with it—a whole lot more than I was when I _started_ using it before."

"Well, how do you get it back?" she asked, walking over to him.

"I uh, kind of don't…" he answered. Youmu was about to open her mouth, but he explained before she could ask. "It has to come to me. That was how it worked before."

"How is that supposed to work?" she tilted her head. His only response was a head shake. "Then, how long is it going to take? The sooner you can do… whatever you do, the better, I hope."

"Well…" Cicero put a finger on his chin, pacing around her. "The first time I had to gather all this crap it took about… um… Gosh it's been so long." He scratched his head and looked blankly at the ground. His eyes wandered for a moment before he looked back towards her and snapped his fingers. "Almost two-hundred and fifty years!"

"What? Are you kidding me?" she opened her arms out, "That's over four times older than I am!"

"You're sixty?" Cicero narrowed his eyes. He paused and stared at her for a moment until he pieced together his own conclusion. "Oh, oh right. You're one of those things Border Woman calls a youkai. I guess that makes you live a bit longer or something. Or at least look younger, I guess."

"Regardless…" Youmu interrupted, "We can't rely on that trait of yours if it's going to take that long…"

"Aaaah…" Cicero waggled his finger with a smile. He reached into the inside of his coat and pulled out Hakurouken in its sheath. "That's why I asked for this." He freed the blade from its sheath, examining the reflectively clean surface in the dim light. He appreciated its simplicity; having something too fancy or cumbersome would have bothered him. The wakizashi was light, and small enough to conceal in his coat from top to bottom. He compared it to Roukanken, sheathed and held on Youmu's back. It was twice the length of his, the bottom of the hilt complemented by a strange white flowering design. After examining it briefly, he began to swing it around in the air, moving away from Youmu. He was entirely nonchalant about it, like a child playing with a toy; one hand was in his pocket. "Well, we can't do much about it now. So, I can just familiarize myself with some self-defense until the wait is over." he said casually. Eventually, he turned around, gripping the wakizashi with one hand and facing Youmu. "Would you care to help me?"

"It's your most viable option, I suppose…" she muttered, reaching for her Roukanken, "But please be careful. That blade isn't for show."

"I wouldn't have asked for it if I thought it was…" he retorted dryly. He put up his arms, blade in hand. Youmu held hers in front of her, the two circling each other momentarily on the ballroom; only the echoing of Cicero's boots could be heard. He was the first to move, making a quick swing towards her. Youmu's arms smoothly shifted in its direction, almost effortlessly knocking the hit away as the sound of colliding metal rang from between them. With her blade past his, she made a short thrust towards him; it would have been too short to make contact—she only wanted to see how he would react to it. To her surprise, he reeled back as quickly as she deflected, moving off-center from her attack. As quickly as that, he pushed in again, lightly bashing her wrist with the hilt of Hakurouken.

Youmu winced briefly at the sting before jumping back. "I didn't expect you to land a hit. It appears you've had at least a bit of practice," she commented. There was really no form to him. His movements were sloppy, as was his posture. The way he handled the wakizashi was loose, and his eyes seemed to lock too hard into one place. Despite this, he seemed to be able to hold his own against someone who was barely going at him. He didn't reply to her comment, and simply kept his sight on her, twirling the blade slowly on his hand.

She returned to her original stance, watching him closely. The blade was harder to see as he moved it around; her attention stayed primarily on him, and where his eyes moved. They were locked on her as well, now scanning her movements as closely as she was to him. This time, she took the initiative, taking high swings at him in succession. There was little delay in his reactions, parrying each hit as they came, though backing up slightly with each strike. He seemed to stumble every now and then, either barely losing his footing or miscalculating a hit. If a parry missed, he would still manage to move away from her swing, though often with only centimeters of clearance. It was a dangerous means of practice, and she trusted he was already aware of that—if he wanted to familiarize himself with her wakizashi, this was effectively one of the best ways to do so. She did still hold back, however. There were enough openings for her to flail him nearly a dozen times already. It was unlikely he'd have to face someone like her in full-blown combat, though. At this point, he would be able to defend himself against at least a belligerent human. That still didn't give her much hope for his survival, however.

Finally, one parry had hit hard enough to stagger him altogether, and Youmu responded with a heavy kick on his ribs, forcing him to let go of Hakurouken. He fell on his back with a grunt, the tip of Roukanken lightly pressing against his neck before he could even settle from the landing. Cicero looked up at her as he felt the edge, then openly raised up his hands to signal a yield. With a nod, she lifted her sword from him and offered her hand.

"That wasn't too bad, I'd say," he commented as he grabbed hold. She hoisted him up onto his feet, allowing him to straighten his coat and tie.

"You'll manage," she answered. "You still won't be up for a fight against a youkai, though. I'll have to compensate for that issue."

"I was talking about you," he retorted in a wry tone, making one more adjustment to ensure the knot was still in proper form. "It shouldn't be too hard to not die if you stay like that. Hopefully."

"Is there something you're trying to imply?" she sheathed back Roukanken.

"Of course! That you're good but not the best," he answered frankly.

"Candid…" she muttered. "Are you saying that you're still better?"

"Ach! No!" he vocally wretched, "I'm like a drunkard with a bread knife. Cutting and stabbing things was never my… well, thing. I prefer… direct approaches."

"Like…?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Pffft, let me show you," he said, picking up Hakurouken off the ground. They quickly returned to their stances as Youmu pulled out her katana once more. He acted differently this time, hopping around subtly in place, holding Hakurouken forward like he was loosely fencing. She waited for him to move this time, just to see what he meant.

Out of nowhere, he reeled back and flung the wakizashi at her, the angle so off it was practically flying sideways. The awkward approach made her react primarily to the throw, deflecting the hit and causing Hakurouken to fall to the ground. By the time she turned her attention back to Cicero, he'd already made a dead sprint towards her, moving past the edge of her blade and bringing a fist quickly to her forehead. He hit with enough force to send her sprawling to the ground, almost dizzy from the impact. As she regained her composure, she felt a sharpness on the back of her neck. She could still see the wakizashi where it had landed in her peripheral vision—he'd picked up Roukanken as it flew out of her hand.

"Something a bit like that," he said, moving the blade away. "Now, there's still a couple problems to this method," he explained, lifting her up as she did earlier to him, "This only works on the oblivious. If I did it to some fucker who was really, _really_ focused, I'd probably be diced and canned already." He handed the katana back to her. "And plus, if I do pull it off, it usually just works once. Because, you know. They'll see it coming if they're still alive. But the good news is…" he shrugged, "They usually aren't."

"I'll keep that in mind," she murmured, straightening the black bow in her hair. "But what was it you were saying about who the best was, if it wasn't you?" Her curiosity was getting to her again. At most, it was affirmation of her ego.

"Just some royal blood I knew before I died," he answered softly. His eyes weren't set on her when he said it—they were off to the side, staring almost woefully in no particular direction. Quickly, he looked back at her with his normal nonchalant expression. "But they sorta don't count when they're in the past life."

"What was your past life like?" she asked, sheathing Roukanken once more.

"Now that's _really_ irrelevant!" he pointed at her. A second later, their ears were met with a familiar crashing noise, and were knocked off their feet as the ground shook violently. The initial impact was much harder this time, and the tremors themselves lasted much longer. The remaining chandeliers swung about again, another falling from the ceiling and crashing behind them. The room darkened as more and more candles began to fall and blow out. They covered their heads, trying to keep some balance and watch out for whatever might fall on them. This one was lasting much longer than the last, going on for nearly a minute before it even began to die down. In the last few seconds, a small portion of the wall broke apart near the ceiling, falling and breaking the checkered flooring as it crashed. Eventually, the quakes stopped, and the ballroom became quiet.

"Cicero… do you feel that?" Youmu said lowly, getting back up.

"Other than the quake? No, what?" he asked. He was wearing his boots, while Youmu was still barefoot from earlier. There was a subtle, soothing feeling beneath her feet. The floor was warm. They made their way towards the exit, Youmu only bothering to put her shoes back on—her socks were still soaking wet.

As they walked out the building, they paused and looked out in front of them, both slack-jawed at the sight. The cobblestone of the courtyard was revealed widely in front of them, accompanied by a steamy fog that enveloped the area. The snow on the ground had disappeared almost entirely, only the falling flakes left to be seen. They both felt the distinct heat on the ground now. It was much hotter directly on the cobblestone, and the air itself was also warm. The wind had died down as well, providing an eerie silence in the haze.

The purple glow was still visible, however; it was the only viable source of light now. "We can't just leave that thing unattended…" Youmu muttered, turning to Cicero, "We _have_ to see what's happening to it."

"The circumstances seem reasonable enough…" Cicero nodded, "Fine, let's go break our promise." They treaded towards the center, watching their steps as they moved. It was extremely dark now, and the sound of crashing rock could be heard close to them. In the midst of their walk, they ran into a large boulder surrounded by rubble. More stalactites were falling. As they got closer, the ground grew hotter. Youmu groaned slightly at the built up heat that was passing through the soles of her shoes. She wasn't sure which she preferred to put up with, between the burn of steam or the burn of snow.

The glow was shining brightly through the fog now, the source barely visible in the distance. As they got closer, they passed by the hedges near them, stopping before they moved further. "Well, that's quite an impact…" Cicero said dryly. The ground in front of them had lifted up by a foot, the cobblestone broken off and the angle sloped. Without any further hesitation, they stepped up, moving closer until they reached the series of knocked over wagons and a couple of fallen cranes. Both grimaced as they finally came into view of the barrier.

It was a bright, glass-like material placed inside a large, carved out hole. It fit snuggly inside, a display of patterns and illegible words etched into the surface. It would have been a beautiful sight, had it not been for the state it was in. The entire thing was cracked—practically shattered had not all the pieces stayed in their general places. Large segments laid fractured from each other, the cracks travelling down several feet to the bottom of the opening. Occasionally, the entire barrier would flicker, fading slightly before maintaining its composition. It travelled through the ground, covering more open spots where the ground had cracked and almost split open at the rim of the hole.

"This is unbelievable…" Youmu marveled, "Not just that Satori could maintain this thing, but keep it active after all this. Has she really been holding this for several days?"

"A strong willed soul, I guess… Oh joy, now what?" The air began to shift around them, moving subtly towards the center of the barrier before, quickly bursting violently. The pair covered their faces as the wind blasted past them, Cicero holding onto his hat to keep it from flying off. When they looked back up, the courtyard was clear of the fog, though still dark. Only one or two windows possessed light, one source coming from the large room on the second floor. In the distance, a faint short silhouette could be seen facing them. "Strong indeed…"

Soon, the barrier also began to shift, a moderate hum emanating from it as the pieces began to move. They moved closer, watching as the fragments dragged back into place, slowly sealing the cracks in its surface.

"Cicero, look!" Youmu pointed down into the barrier. At the bottom, a large bluish-white mass could be seen, undulating erratically at the bottom of the barrier. Upon closer inspection, they all looked like small, glowing orbs, all pressing themselves up against the surface. A very small number of them could be seen wiggling up through the cracks, trying to make their escape.

"Oh, so these are your demons," Cicero noted. As the barrier began to reassemble itself, most were crushed by the closed spaces, their substance dissipating inside. Just before the last piece was finished, two desperately wiggled out, floating above the barrier before flying towards them. The two ducked as the entities passed over them; they appeared to have small skull-like faces on them. Both settled onto the ground, a whitish green light emanating from them. Cicero's eyes narrowed at the display, grimacing as he looked at the process. It was too bright to see everything entirely, but they could spot soft, pulsating shapes float in the mass, soon covered up by layers of flesh and cloth. The squelching of meat and fluids invaded their ears, ended by a sudden, shrill screaming. As the light dimmed, they could see two skinny bodies, standing awkwardly and moving sporadically in front of them.

"What is this…" Youmu looked on, one hand on Roukanken, "Fallen souls don't manifest their own bodies." They took the forms of two young men, their skin looking almost healthy, though they looked fairly underweight. Their clothes were tattered and dirty, and they appeared to have neglected the concept of hygiene years ago. After a few minutes, they started to straighten out, first looking at their hands then slowly looking up at each other. They looked as surprised as Youmu, examining each other quickly before smiling.

"Gorou… we've made it… We've come back!" one man said ecstatically.

"Y-yes, but how?!" asked the other, still in slight shock.

"I don't know, I don't know, but it feels… amazing!" he shouted. He took a deep breath through his nostrils and laughed. "We're alive again, old friend! We're alive!"

"Gah! Wait, Hibiki! What's happened to your eyes?!" the one called Gorou exclaimed.

"Huh? What? W-what's wrong?!" Hibiki asked frantically.

"Can you see right now? How is that possible?!" he Gorou shrieked.

"Just tell me what's wrong with my eyes!" Hibiki cried out.

"They're… they're half-gone! Hollowed out!"

"Wait a second… so are yours!" The two screamed simultaneously before taking deep sporadic breaths. "Wait, wait, what could this mean, Gorou? Do you think we're immortal?"

"Why would you think that?" Gorou asked in a voice that was at least less obnoxious to the ears, though he still sounded like a nervous man.

"Think about it…" He moved his hands in front of his eyes. "We should be in immense pain right now… But if we aren't feeling anything…"

Gorou's mouth gradually shifted to a colossal grin whilst breathing uneasily from the sudden epiphany. "I… I think you're right! We'll become the greatest thieves in history!" he exclaimed.

"Thieves?" Youmu muttered to Cicero, watching the two interact.

"Well, it would explain why they're here…" Cicero responded, a hand under his chin.

"Forget about that! We'll become _gods!_" Hibiki proclaimed, "But first, we'll need money to get back on our feet…" his sight slowly turned to Cicero and Youmu. "You there! Hand us your money and we'll let you live!"

"Sorry, my mistress never lends me money," Youmu responded flatly.

"I didn't even pay the immigration fee, dude. You're out of luck," Cicero added just as flatly.

"Gaaaaah, we know you're lying!" he grunted, taking out a tiny kitchen knife from his pocket, "I'll just take it from you!"

He charged at Cicero with a shout, brandishing his knife recklessly. Cicero apathetically stepped out of the way as he thrust forward, almost losing his balance with nothing to stop his momentum. In another second, he reached for Hakurouken in his coat, gently pulling it out and moving slightly to avoid the next wide slash from the guy. Briefly, Cicero kicked him on the shin, causing him to flinch and hold onto his leg before the tip of the wakizashi burst through the front of his sternum. He gasped in terror at the sight, then stared blankly out in front of him, his eyes glowing for a brief moment in his silence. Everyone was still for a moment until Cicero yanked the blade out from him.

"Sorry, I…" Hibiki muttered hoarsely, "I was being a bit irrational. I'll just go now… And rethink my afterlife…" As he finished, his body fell to the ground, a bluish white orb quickly phasing out from the top of his head and flying into the darkness of the cavern. The body quickly began to wither, converting into dust and leaving only his knife and clothes on the ground.

"Hibiki…?" Gorou called out, looking like he was about to cry, "You killed Hibiki?! You monster! Who am I going to do our trademarked 'Stab n' Steel™' with?! We were going to rule the world togetherrrrr, aaaahahaaaa!" he sobbed. "I'll destroy both of you!" he shouted, snot dripping out of his nose.

He made a run for Youmu, pulling out an even smaller kitchen knife from his sleeve. Youmu almost wanted to let him stab her to see if the thing was even sharp enough to pierce the skin. Rejecting the condescending impulse, she pulled out Roukanken and held the blade high towards his head, letting him run blindly into it. He screamed girlishly for a moment, thrashing about with the sword in his forehead before his eyes began to glow. Soon, he fell flat on his face, unmoving, with his body withering away like his friend's. There was no orb that came out of him, though. Only his clothes and knife were left, just like before.

"Guh, did you see his eyes when he got close?" Cicero stuck his tongue out, "it was like someone scooped out a cylinder of their eyeballs or something."

"How did this happen?" Youmu asked with intrigue, "Never have I heard of a soul simply reincarnating because they escaped Hell. This isn't even Hell's official domain anymore either. What could have done this?" There was no answer from Cicero for a moment as Youmu examined the remaining objects. She heard him shift his feet, then looked back at him.

"The better question may be… What could be doing that?" he commented. In the sky far from the palace, a bright white glow emanated from near the walls of the caverns, illuminating space around it. It travelled upwards, approaching a thick layer of clouds that had now formed at the ceiling, obscuring the stalactites that covered the top of the caves. There was a thin line of smoke behind it, the glow itself lightly pulsating in intensity. Eventually, it reached the top of its arc and began to descend, falling slower than it had risen.

"What is it?" Youmu asked, walking up next to him.

Cicero's expression darkened at the light. "A sign."


End file.
